Black Ladies Chronicles
by queenpearl
Summary: Things are never boring in the US Submarine Force as these ladies can attest...
1. A Hungry Sub is a Dead Sub 1

For a modern day sub, being hungry was a rare occurrence like a once in a lifetime occurrence. They didn't need to catch food or have it served to them in their tanks. Give them a fistful of Uranium and they'd be good for 20 or so years. So actually feeling hungry was unusual and at times a bit scary and USS Pennsylvania found out why.

It was just a typical patrol for her. She'd left base at Bangor a few days earlier and had just found her own spot in the Pacific to cruise around it. Running at around 160 feet, she maintained a state of readiness for the call to come through to launch her nuclear weapons. While Pennsylvania enjoyed getting calls from other submarines back at base and hearing the chatter of surface ships could get amusing sometimes, that was one call she hoped she never had to receive. For a few days now the nearly 20 year old submarine had been getting a funny feeling in her stomach, an empty feeling like she was going to be sick. She didn't understand it but she wasn't going to whine about it. As long as she could still perform her duties. It would prove to be a near fatal mistake.

As her patrol wore on, the feeling in Pennsylvania's stomach grew worse. Soon she began to have cramps, sometimes so severe it was a struggle for her just to keep floating at 160 feet. The effort left her breathless and she'd be forced to breach to take a new breath before diving again. Submarines were much like whales only they could hold their breath and stay submerged for a full 90 day patrol if need be. Previously, Pennsylvania had no trouble with it and now her captain inquired into her unexpected action.

"Just-just didn't take a deep enough breath before diving captain." Pennsylvania gasped as she held her bow clear out of the water, breathing in deep. Her planes helped steady her.

After a few minutes, Pennsylvania dove back down to 160 feet and continued on her cruise, settling into a lawnmower like pattern, sweeping back and forth across her patrol area. Other than a few schools of fish and one surface freighter going by, she saw nothing of consequence.

It was on her fifth line that it happened. Pennsylvania's stomach seized up on her and for the first time in her career, the big boomer submarine lunged forward and puked into the water. A white foamy substance came out of her mouth and Pennsylvania grimaced at the foul taste. Her captain, quick to respond, took control of the helm and raised the periscope so he could see what was wrong with his sub. The young ensign manning it, fixed it on Pennsylvania's bow as she lunged forward and a second later, a cloud of white entered the water. The ensign grimaced.

"Permission to speak sir?" He said to the captain.

"Permission granted, go ahead ensign." Pennsylvania's captain replied. "What did you see?"

"I think the only way to put it frankly sir is Pennsylvania's throwing up." The ensign replied.

Captain Bradford F. Ness was a man with 30 plus years of experience in the submarine force. He'd spent several years on Pennsylvania and knew every knook and cranny of his Ohio-class submarine. But this, this was new but not entirely unexpected. Every submarine captain had been warned to watch for signs that their submarine needed refueling. The first sign was feeling hungry. Following that would be abdominal cramps. The third stage was where Pennsylvania was at now. The white foam she was puking up came from the Krypton in her reactor. Krypton in small amounts was harmless, but in large amounts it could quite easily kill a sub like Pennsylvania. As the reactor grew older, the Uranium content within it went down as Barium and Krypton took its place as part of a chain reaction of nuclear fission. Eventually, it'd come to the point where there was no Uranium left to break apart and the Krypton and Barium would take over, continuing to break down into smaller and smaller, less volatile elements. It was when this happened that the submarine, lacking the food, aka: Uranium, that they needed to function, that these signs would appear. Unfortunately for Pennsylvania, Krypton would begin to break down her DNA. The white foam Pennsylvania was puking up now were former blood cells, now dead.

Ness had been expecting something like this from Pennsylvania but his submarine wasn't one to whine. She'd no doubt been feeling hunger pains for days if not weeks but never said anything. It was so like her.

"Pennsylvania, before this did you feel hungry?" He asked her though he was certain he already knew the answer.

"I-blagh! I felt this emptiness in my stomach but I didn't know what it was." Pennsylvania replied.

"You should've talked to me Penn. This is serious." Ness scolded her.

"It didn't seem like it at the time." Pennsylvania whimpered.

"I know that. You're not used to being hungry." He said.

"Hungry? So that's what it was. Um, what do you mean, being hungry?" She asked.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ness had to laugh at this. For such a sophisticated creature, Pennsylvania sure could sure be ignorant at times.

"It's your body's way of telling you, you need food." He explained.

"So my reactor..." She broke off, vomiting again.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm taking you back to Bangor right now." He said.

"But the patrol, captain I can finish it. It's only a few more days!" She cried.

"The patrol be damned Pennsylvania. This is beyond hunger now, you've got Krypton poisoning." He snapped. "Helm 180 degrees rudder, steady course." He ordered.

"180 degrees rudder, steady course aye." came the reply.

"Surface." Ness ordered.

The alarm was wrong. "Surface, surface!"

It took Pennsylvania longer than normal to rise up, she was struggling so much to angle herself right.

"Come on old girl. You can do it." Ness encouraged.

"I'm trying sir." Pennsylvania panted.

Under normal circumstances, Ness would reprimand his sub for the talk back but this time he led it slide. His first priority was seeing her safely back to base.

Eventually, Pennsylvania's teardrop shaped bow broke the surface and she gasped in the clean Oxygen gratefully. Vomiting had taken a lot out of her in terms of air supply and it was a good thing she surfaced when she did.

Once she settled on the surface, Pennsylvania lacked the strength to remain there and began to sink down again.

"No, Penn. Stay up!" Ness cried.

His response was another round of vomiting, then a weak "I-I can't sir. It hurts..."

"Penn, come on." Ness said. "If you don't find a way to stay up, we're all gonna die when you sink below crush depth."

Somehow, Pennsylvania managed to stay afloat and Ness had his engineers take over the propulsion so his submarine could concentrate solely on staying afloat.

Now surfaced, Ness did what every submariner was told not to do. He sent out a call over an open channel. Several ships were close enough to help. One was a cruise ship that deviated from its original course towards Alaska. Another was a freighter outbound from Seattle. And the third was a lone supply ship. The cruise ship arrived first. She was a pretty thing, freshly painted with gleaming paintwork. Her name, Carnival Paradise, was written on her bow and stern in fancy letters. She was stunned at the sight of the submarine and her passengers lined the decks to see what perhaps would be the only active duty submarine they'd ever see.

"You poor thing." Paradise said, nuzzling the top of Pennsylvania's sail.

"Can I lean on you? I can't, blagh! I can't really keep stable very well right now." Pennsylvania groaned.

"Of course sweetie." Paradise replied.

"Ugh, do me a favor would you?" Pennsylvania asked.

"Of course. Anything." Paradise answered.

"Don't call me sweetie!" Pennsylvania groaned.

Paradise stifled a laugh. If the submarine still had a sense of humor that was a good sign at least.

"What would you like to be called then?" She asked.

"Penn, just Penn." Pennsylvania replied.

"Okay then Penn, you just keep your head above water and all will be fine, I promise you." Paradise said.

"Ngh, I hope so. I can't stay up much longer." Pennsylvania groaned.

"Just keep trying sweetheart." Paradise said, doing what she could to take some of the submarine's weight for her.

By the time the supply ship arrived it was dark and the seas choppy. It made for a dangerous scenario as the supply ship flooded her ballest tanks and dropped her deck below the water so Pennsylvania could climb on. Problem was, the submarine was too weak to even move or even float on her own. She was being held up by the cruise ship and the tanker.

"Come on Penn, try." Paradise begged her.

"I can't..." Pennsylvania gasped.

"Yes you can, come on old girl." Ness said. He stood out on her deck, kneeling down to stroke her sweaty sides.

The freighter and the cruise ship sailed as close to the supply ship as they dared.

"You have to go the rest of the way Penn." Paradise said.

Pennsylvania tried but as soon as the two let go of her she began to sink. She just didn't have the strength or the buoyancy to counteract this.

Paradise caught her. "Easy now, I've got ya." She said.

"Ngh, thanks." Pennsylvania whimpered. With tears in her eyes she cried "I can't do it! I'm going to die out here!"

"No you're not!" Paradise growled. She looked at the freighter, an idea forming in her mind. Clearly the freighter was thinking the same thing for she nodded.

Together the two ships lifted Pennsylvania clear of the water.

"How good are you at catch?" Paradise asked the supply ship through a mouthful of submarine.

"Wha, you're not really gonna..." Pennsylvania cried.

"I'm ready when you are." The supply ship replied.

"One." The freighter said.

"Oh no you don't!" Pennsylvania growled.

"Two." Paradise growled.

Pennsylvania gulped and closed her eyes.

"Three!"

The submarine screamed like a human little girl as she was thrown through the air and landed rather painfully on her side in the center of the supply ship's deck.

"As you navy folk would say, on target!" Paradise exclaimed.

Ness, who'd been transferred to the supply ship a few minutes earlier gave the cruise ship a salute. "Thank you for your help, Paradise." He said.

"My pleasure, captain." Paradise replied. "See that Penn gets medical attention. Krypton poisoning can be nasty if left untreated."

"I'll make sure she gets the best care we have to give her." Ness promised.

The cruise ship dipped her head and sailed off. The freighter stayed only long enough to ensure the liners securing Pennsylvania to the deck were secure before racing back to his original course.

Pennsylvania had her bow facing the water so she could puke over the side. Most submarines were used to sailing below the water where it was calm and there wasn't any motion to it. So as the seas became rougher, Pennsylvania felt what most all rookie sailors felt, seasickness.

 _"A curious sensation."_ She thought.

Her sensitive ears worked against her as the gel within went crazy, pushing against the hairs and making her lose all sense of direction. She was hurling over the side every few minutes, matching it in time with several others, some her own crew who were doing the same thing. She saw chunks of their vomit float past.

Ness stayed out on deck with her for as long as he could, covered in protective rain gear. He'd had a tarp laid out to cover his submarine as a means of protection against the rain with layers of blankets under it to keep her warm, anchored to the deck so they couldn't be blown away. Though Pennsylvania was used to cold depths she was running a very high fever and despite the protection the layers offered, she was still shivering. Her teeth clacked together and every few minutes she'd lunge forward, her bow dipped to hurl whatever dead cells she had over the side. Ness ran his fingers down her hull in soothing circles.

He would've said something but he doubted she'd hear him anyway. She was so disorientated. Already feeling ill from the Krypton, she now had seasickness on top of it. Ness had seasickness once before and he knew how miserable it could be, let alone already being ill on top of that. It was a double blow he wished on no one. It sucked, period!

The weather quickly began to worsen and it was announced they were sailing headlong into a massive hurricane, and it was called a hurricane in this part of the Pacific. Normally the captain would change course and try to skirt around it but their wasn't time. Pennsylvania needed to get back to Bangor and receive proper medical care and the fastest way was through the hurricane.

A man, fully laden in rain gear came running out on deck up to Ness.

"Excuse me, sir!" He shouted over the wind. "You must come inside. It's too dangerous."

"I'm staying with my sub!" Ness shouted back.

"Orders sir." The man replied.

Ness nodded and turned back to Pennsylvania who was looking at him with clear understanding in her eyes.

He leaned down to hear what she had to say.

"Go captain." She rasped. "It's safe indoors."

"I can't just leave you like this." He said, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking.

Seeming to sense this, she nudged her snout against his left hand.

"Don't worry about me. I'm built to take crushing pressure. I can handle a little storm." She answered.

Gently, Ness moved his right hand and placed it on top of her muzzle.

"You hold on Penn. We'll make it through this. I know we will." He begged.

She smiled faintly, nudging his left hand more insistently this time.

"Go on." She rasped.

Ness leaned down and kissed Pennsylvania's nose which made her blush a bit but she touched her muzzle to his cheek in return. Ness then turned and followed the man inside, glancing back once at Pennsylvania who'd resumed her vomiting. She was an Ohio-class submarine, the best in the world. If anyone could make it through this storm, it was her. But she was weak, burning with fever. Even with her reactor shut down, Pennsylvania still wouldn't stop vomiting. With worry clouding his mind, Ness wondered if this would be the last time he saw his submarine alive.


	2. A Hungry Sub is a Dead Sub 2

Ness watched fearfully out the windows of the supply ships wheelhouse. He could just see the deck below as the ship pitched and rolled in the waves. For the most part, Pennsylvania was so still that Ness feared he'd lost her when he'd then see her puke over the side and he'd breathe a sigh of relief.

 _"You hold on Penn. We'll make it. We will."_ He thought.

When they entered the eye of the storm a few hours later, Ness raced out onto the open deck. Pennsylvania was still in the exact same position she was in before. She'd gotten significantly weaker though and looked like all she wanted to do was have a good rest but her constant puking prevented that.

"Can't you give her something?!" Ness cried.

"We've got suppository Dramamine on board but I don't know how well that would work on her." answered a crewman.

"Well get one and bring it here!" Ness snapped.

The man sighed and raced off to find one.

"It won't stop the puking entirely but it might help you with your ears." Ness told his submarine.

"That would be nice. I'm so disorientated right now I don't know up from down or left from right." Pennsylvania groaned out.

He gave her a pat. "You just hang in there and we'll be out of this soon."

"Ngh, I knew it was the eye!" Pennsylvania cried.

"Hush now." Ness said firmly.

The man returned with the medicine. He handed it to Ness.

"She's your submarine and I don't have a clue about them so.."

Ness sighed. "Point taken, I'll do it." He said.

"Wh-what are you going to do with that?" Pennsylvania whimpered.

"This goes in your rear end and hopefully, it will help you." He answered.

Pennsylvania nodded and braced herself. She winced a bit as it went in.

"There we go. Now tell me how you feel in an hour and we'll see if that worked." Ness said.

"We're approaching the eye wall. You'll have to come inside soon sir." The crewman said.

"I'll be damned if I leave her out in this soup again!" Ness snapped.

"Sir, you have to come inside." The crewman insisted.

"Captain..."

Ness turned back to his submarine. "Yes Penn, I'm here."

"Do as he says." Pennsylvania rasped.

"But Penn, I can't just..." Ness began.

"Yes you can. Go on. I've lasted this long. I can last the rest of the way. One half of the storm then it will be smooth sailing all the way." She said.

"Smooth sailing huh." He asked.

She chuckled. "Well for you anyway." She replied.

"I'll be back as soon as the sky clears. Never mind the seas." He said.

"I know you will. You're so clingy." She murmured.

"I can't help it if I care for you. You're my girl." He said.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh get inside you before I get your wife on the phone." She said.

Ness faked mock horror. "You wouldn't!" He gasped.

"Oh yes I would." Pennsylvania smirked. "Now get going you!" She ordered.

Ness took off in a hurry.

Less than an hour later, the storm was back and with a vengeance. 40 foot waves sloshed across the deck and Pennsylvania, despite the tarp, was soon soaked. She went from burning hot to ice cold in a matter of hours. Hypothermia was a real concern for her now. She'd gone beyond the point of shivering and now all she wanted to do was sleep but she couldn't. She knew she couldn't. If she fell asleep, she was dead! She couldn't stave it off forever.

 _"Just a few minutes."_ She thought as she drifted off.

She woke a few minutes later, gasping for breath. As she fell asleep, the vomit came up in her throat and got into her lungs as she breathed. Struggling to expel it from her lungs, she coughed weakly lacking the strength for anything more. On the bridge, Ness recognized that something was wrong with his submarine and raced down the flights of stairs and out onto the deck.

"Sir you can't go out there..." Began the marine at the door.

Ness pushed past him. "Just give me a lifeline and I'll be on my way!" He growled and tore open the hatch.

Crossing the deck in a matter of strides, Ness practically fell on his side in his hurry to get down to Pennsylvania.

A crewman, already tied off, came running up with a lifeline.

"Here sir." he said.

Ness quickly tied himself off and growled "Do you have a NG tube, something I can use to clear her throat?"

When the crewman hesitated Ness yelled "She's choking goddammit. Bring me something that can help her!"

The crewman saluted and raced off, returning less than a minute later with the tube.

Ness worked quickly and had it in Pennsylvania's mouth, sticking it down her throat.

She struggled, convulsing in a dry heave under him. "Easy, easy!" He said, stroking her.

He calmly activated the tube and it began to suck the white gunk out of her lungs. Pennsylvania breathed through her nose, falling back asleep while Ness, every few minutes or so, would use the tube to suck her airways clear. He was quickly soaked to the bone in the sheeting rain and ocean spray but his only concern was his submarine.

"You hold on Pennsylvania, you hold on." He whispered.


	3. A Hungry Sub is a Dead Sub 3(final part)

The supply ship raced into Norfolk at flank speed once the storm cleared. With the seas calmer now she could actually make headway and a good thing too, Pennsylvania had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time. The supply ship had some basic medical supplies and was able to hook her up to a bag of fluids. Since she'd been puking so much, she was getting dehydrated. The bag was hoped to help offset that. But nothing could be done to treat Pennsylvania's high fever. Ness had gotten down to rubbing her with a cool cloth in the hopes that might help or spraying seawater onto her hull like they did with captured dolphins. It did very little to help. Her core temperature was out of control and if Ness didn't find a way to stabilize her soon, she would die. Already, she was beginning to show signs of organ failure and she suffered frequent seizures as well.

Convulsing under his hands, Ness was forced to back off and let her thrash, only holding her head to keep her airways free. She'd been having them consistently, every 15 minutes or so. This one was the longest one yet, lasting nearly 7 minutes before Pennsylvania's muscles relaxed. Blood ran from her mouth from where she'd bit her tongue repeatedly. Tears ran down her face, everything hurt her so much.

"Just let me go captain!" She cried after one particularly hard seizure. "I want to die, just let me go!"

"Pennsylvania, we're almost there. Once in Groton the doctor's there are going to take good care of you. You're going to be fine. You won't have any more seizures then. I promise." Ness assured her.

"But it hurts, captain!" She sobbed. "It hurts so much, oh!"

Her whole body arched upwards. "Gah!" She cried.

"Easy, easy." He said, getting around to grab her head.

It was a struggle to keep her head still as she kept trying to pull away from him. Whether it was intentional or just a spasm Ness wasn't sure.

It was some time before she relaxed again. Each seizure was longer than the last and Ness feared that she'd have no time between one ending, and another beginning. This time, it took 10 minutes for Pennsylvania to stop shaking.

"You poor old thing." Ness sighed. "What can I do to make it stop?"

"I don't know captain." Pennsylvania whimpered, burying her snout into the folds of his jacket.

He stroked her soothingly. "Nearly there." He whispered. "We're an hour out of Bangor at most. Can you see it yet?"

Pennsylvania craned her head around to look. "I see the coast and-and the light house. And, ha! There's Kentucky coming out of the channel!" She cried happily.

Kentucky wasn't expecting the sight of the large supply ship coming towards her. She hadn't heard the news about Pennsylvania yet and was surprised and worried to see her sister on the top deck.

"Penn, what's wrong?!" She cried, making a 180 and racing up alongside.

"I'll be alright once I get back to base." Pennsylvania rasped in reply.

Kentucky bit back a whimper. Her sister looked so pale and weak. The light was almost gone from her eyes. What exactly was wrong with her.

Not wanting to worry her sister, Pennsylvania called down "Hurry up with your patrol, run your crew out of food or something, and get your fat rudders back to base and see."

"Fat? I'm not fat!" Kentucky cried. To be lying on the deck of a supply ship, obviously ill and telling her she was fat, that took some tremendous whale balls. Huffing, the submarine raced off, hearing Pennsylvania laughing behind her.

Ness smiled, it was good to see his submarine keeping her spirits up, despite her illness.

The supply ship sailed calmly into Bangor and Pennsylvania was harnessed and hauled off the deck and into a cradle on land. Doctors swarmed around her, hooking her up to a variety of tubes and wires. The NG tube was put back in her mouth as she was still coughing up white foam. Men in led suits worked on her reactor, reloading it with Uranium deposits before attempting to restart it. It worked and the Krypton was being slowly but surely flushed out of Pennsylvania's system.

Periodically, the Ohio-class would suffer a seizure for she was still very dehydrated but at least she had a better chance now. For the most part, she remained unconscious and if she was awake, she was very out of it and only managed a few minutes a time before she'd slip under again. Ness was in and out of the yards where she was kept a lot in the following weeks. He spent more time there than with his wife at home. The misses understood and once went with him to see Pennsylvania.

"The poor thing, how long is she supposed to be here?" She asked.

"Well that's up to her." Ness replied. "It could be six weeks, six months. Maybe even a year. I don't really know."

Mrs. Ness stroked Pennsylvania's black muzzle, now beginning to turn gray with her age.

"She looks so peaceful asleep." She said.

"I wasn't sure she was going to make it. I still don't know what the effects will be. Krypton poisoning, if it doesn't kill, can cripple a submarine, forcing her to the scrappers." Ness sighed.

"No!" She gasped.

"Pennsylvania's strong though. I doubt that will happen." He said.

"I hope not. For a 20 year old submarine she's still young and full of life." She said.

"She's a real pleasure to command." Ness said.

...

A few days later when Pennsylvania woke up was when Ness got his true verdict.

"Hello captain." She purred to the man stroking her nose absentmindedly.

He straightened up at once, ignoring the stiffness in his back and legs from sitting in that position for so long. He held the NG tube in his left hand.

"Welcome back Penn." He said.

"Good to be back." She purred, twitching her fins. Well her right one anyway. Her left fin remained immobile.

Frowning, Pennsylvania concentrated on it but couldn't get it to move. "Captain.." She began.

"Yeah, I see it." Ness sighed. He placed his fingers on the appendage. "I'm going to poke at it and you tell me if you feel anything." He said.

She nodded and pressed down on the tip. Pennsylvania had her eyes fixed straight ahead so visually looking would not have her psychologically affected into thinking she was feeling that. Getting no response from his submarine, Ness moved farther up again doing the same thing only this time adding his nails to the equation. Again nothing. Ness moved up to the end of the fin, feeling the four bones beneath his fingers that connected it to the main body and pressed down. She yelped.

"Okay, it's okay." He soothed her, letting go of the fin, seeing with displeasure that he'd drawn blood. "Good thing is only the fin itself was affected. Getting you a new one should be no trouble."

"Think that will work?" She asked.

"I'm sure it will." He replied.

She coughed and Ness pried open her jaws and stuck the tube down her throat. She struggled a bit. "Easy now, breathe deep through your nose. That's it." He said as he cleared her throat.

"Doctors say the Krypton will be flushed from your system in a few days but for right now you still need that tube." He said.

"Understood captain." She replied. "How soon can I be out?"

"Well that depends on how cooperative you are. The more you listen to what the doctors tell you, the quicker you can be relaunched." He said.

"For you captain, I'll obey." She sighed, coughing again.

Ness could tell there was a lot of gunk this time just from how deep her coughs went. Pennsylvania let him put the tube down her throat before he turned it on, sucking the gunk out of it and her lungs.

She whimpered a bit, disliking the sensation. "Shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay." He said.

She tried to pull away from him as a big chunk got sucked up. Ness took a tight hold on the straps that held her down.

"Easy, easy now. Just relax." He whispered.

Pennsylvania closed her eyes, her teeth gently clamping down on the tube as she did as she was told.

...

A week later, Pennsylvania was put under for the operation on her fin. Drugged so her tongue was sticking out between her bared teeth, the submarine was rolled by cart to the operating table. This was the part where Ness had to stay out of it so impatiently he waited at home for a phone call, pacing back and forth in the living room with his wife sitting on the couch behind him with a glass of wine in her hand.

"Pennsylvania's a good strong sub, I've read up on her. She's a fine young lady. She'll pull through." She said.

"I know she will. I'm just worried whether or not that new fin will work." Ness replied.

"I have no doubts it will." She assured him.

...

10 hours later, he got his answer.

"The operation was a success." The doctor on the end of the line told him. "The thing started working before we even finished attaching it all the way."

"That's good to hear. Thank you." Ness sighed in relief.

"My pleasure sir, Goodnight." The line went dead.

...

Pennsylvania woke up the next morning and like all submarines who come out of surgery, she began to thrash. Fortunately, she was moored off in a recovery pool where she would remain for a few days while doctors came in to check on her. Ness came by when he could and he was there when Pennsylvania was relaunched into the water a full 2 months after she arrived here.

"Well old girl, looks like you pulled through just fine." He said.

Pennsylvania was positively giddy and who could blame her after being cooped up in that cradle and little pool for so long. She was practically chasing her stern when Ness told her she could go off and play for a bit.

"Nothing strenuous!" He called after her.

Pennsylvania flicked her rudders to show she'd heard him. He chuckled. She wasn't the youngest submarine around anymore, but she was a good one. And he was proud to be her commander.


	4. A Sub's Greatest Weapon

Virginia settled close to the bottom, all her senses tuned towards the Libyan coast. With all the trouble going on there recently, it was up to her to keep a sharp eye out for anything that might pose a threat to the US.

The submarine parted her jaws, tasting the water molecules around her. The strong tang of diesel was sharp on her tongue. Her highly tuned sense of smell also detected large levels of adrenaline. This meant that either in the water itself or close by on shore and being carried by the water, was someone excited for something. Virginia could not tell what by smell alone. This is where her hearing came into play.

More sensitive than a humpback whale, a submarine could detect even the slightest movement through the water from hundreds of miles away. As a result, this made patrol duties like the Suez Canal particularly torturous. Forget about all the fuss people make about sonar and other testing hurting a whale's ear. If it wasn't for their crews, it would be submarines lining the beaches, bleeding from their ears more so than whales. In some cases it could be a ratio up to 10-1. Virginia had met several submarines who'd fallen victim to such tests. Their hearing was completely gone. With the loss of their hearing, balance immediately became and issue and most subs found they could no longer dive as deep as they could nor could they maintain a certain depth quickly becoming disorientated underwater. A sub who couldn't perform her duty was a dead sub and most were soon scrapped. It was merciful compared to the hundreds of other horrific ways a deaf sub could die without human interference. Scorpion for example had only partially lost her hearing when she was lost. Thresher too was completely deaf in one ear. Balance, coordination, awareness of one's surroundings all relied on hearing and in Scorpion and Thresher's case, the inability to recognize danger was a fatal flaw.

Virginia's hearing however was perfect and the sound of propellers against the brine was a familiar sound even though it sounded like nails against a chalkboard. The sub expertly tuned that out and tried to focus her hearing on other things. She couldn't just hear sounds in the water, but vibrations coming from the shore nearby that resonated through it. Her hearing range was the widest known on the planet, even wider than a whale's. The largest known range was taken on USS Los Angeles shortly after her launching when she was still young and her ears hadn't yet been exposed to the full fury of the ocean. It was determined that she could hear between -1200 and 300,00 Hz. Whales and other large marine mammels by contrast were only known to hear between 5 and 100,000 Hz at most. In a nutshell, submarines could hear sounds so low they were practically non-existent. This highly sensitive hearing was both a blessing and a curse. Submarines, of all the species on earth, suffered the greatest percentage of hearing loss of any animal over the course of a lifetime. Of all the subs born in one year, a staggering 95% of them were expected to lose up to 30% of their hearing range by age 10. This was due in part to the noises human's made. Man made noise traveled for miles under water. Oh sure every one can talk about whales and feel sorry for them but no one thinks about the poor submarines who suffer far more. Virginia bared her teeth at the thought. The loud noises around her were making her more irritable than usual.

The Mediterranean was a busy shipping lane and Virginia could pick up on freighters entering and leaving the locks at the canal over three thousand miles away. It was middle of spring and shipping was expected to pick up as more and more tropical fruit and livestock came into season as the summer drew near. Already though, the influx of traffic was being felt and no one felt it more clearly than Virginia. She was meant to remain on station for 8 full weeks before returning to the states. Right in the middle of that was the peak of merchant traffic. The thousands of varieties of man made noise only got worse and Virginia more than once gave her crew a shock when she tried to bury her head into the fine sediment. Anything to get away from the noise. Though she was more than tempted to surface she knew that would do little. She could still hear and feel the noise and surfacing left her ear canals partially submerged which would only hurt her more.

One would think that submarines could evolve something to protect them and they gladly would if they could evolve. The ship race was entirely female and Natural Selection no longer had a place in their lives. Everything was done entirely by selective breeding. Humans built submarines for one purpose and one purpose only, highly tuned hearing and sense of smell. The average submarine had 4000 times more receptors in its naval cavity than a human. A human had millions, most discarded and left in active but a subs were all active. No ship on the planet had a single inactive gene. They were designed for maximum efficiency and they delivered.

Virginia, once her tour in Libya was over, raced for home so fast that her crew was impressed. She pushed her engines to the limit. All she wanted now was to get home, into a confined area that would both trap sound inside and block incoming sounds from the outside. Submarines were pampered princesses compared to the rest of the fleet. In Groton, the home base of the east coast subs, they were taken out of the water and given five star accommodations. They were the top priority in the shipyards and Virginia was looking forward to getting back there.

Sailing into port workman slipped a harness on her and hauled her out of the water. Weighing only 7800 tons, she was light enough to avoid the long process of flooding a drydock. Gently, she was set down on her cradle. Once settled, a group of veterinarians came forward to check every part of her. If something was wrong, they'd get to fixing it right away. Everything turned up fine until they got to her ears. The man with the flashlight looked down her ear canal. "Her ear drum looks like its thinning at the center." He said. To Virginia, this was bad news. A thinning ear drum meant that she could lose her hearing all together. If that thin membrane broke, she'd never hear from that ear again. Even so, a thin membrane although it could heal, was worrisome.

One of the vets came forward with a small metal stick. Virginia had seen one of those before. They would stick them inside the ear canal to take close up pictures and sometimes x rays of the bones behind the membrane. She didn't like those things. She'd had ones shoved up her nose as well and though she knew they were important, she still hated them. "No, no, no!" She struggled. The sub language sounded like a mixture of horse, hippo and occasionally whale. Right now, it was more towards the horse end as Virginia snorted her displeasure. A group of men had ropes tied around her head to keep her from thrashing. Also, a bit was in her mouth to control her. "Easy, easy now girl." One said. He and his buddies eventually managed to keep Virginia still enough for the thing to into her ear by pinning her head down. Virginia noticeably flinched when it was put in but she behaved herself afterwards, even earning a chunk of salmon for her good behavior.

She was moved into a soundproof hanger to heal. No outside noise could get in and the only sound she did have to contend with were her own and the occasional human that came in. No machinery, no high or low frequency sounds. Just noises well within a human's small range of sound. There was minimal contact with people. The less noise the better. Though it was good for her ears, submarines were very sociable creatures. A submarine's call depended on its environment. In the water, it would sound a lot like a humpback whale and was often confused as such. Virginia would always laugh whenever whale watching boats picked up sounds they believed to be humpbacks when they were actually an alert call from subs in the area. On land however, the sound could either be the grunts of a hippo though those were usually reserved for territorial reasons, or the whinny of a horse. It was this latter call that Virginia used now and she could use it. A submarine had one of the most powerful voice boxes of any animal and she could call for days without going hoarse. Cameras and highly sensitive equipment monitored her 24-7. Not only was this for ensuring her safety but also for scientific reasons as well. The sounds of her calls were picked up by the equipment and the people monitoring them could listen in. Some, especially newbies, found it hard to ignore such cries.

Virginia was let out a month later. By that point her eardrum had healed up nicely with only a little bit of scaring. She was lucky this time. Scaring would've impeded her ability to hear greatly as it did with Nautilus. Her hearing range of -500-200,000 Hz was reduced to 50-9000 Hz, about the average for a older male human without hearing aids. The veterinarians told the navy to keep a close eye on Virginia for a while and keep her away from anything that might hurt her sensitive ears. Likely they wouldn't listen. With Northrop Grumman and Electric boat perfectly able to pump submarines out like a post-war baby boomer, losing a sub to deafness wasn't a problem. Virginia knew she would lose a significant amount of hearing by her 10th year, that was inevitable. The only question was, how long would she last before it got so bad she had to be decommissioned?

...

ABSTRACT

SIGHT: Least important sense for a submarine. Sight can only work for a few meters of water. Submarines do have forward facing eyes, typical of a predator, with binocular vision and some peripheral vision. They do have depth perception that helps them greatly when on the surface however their sight is meager compared to their other senses.

SMELL: Submarines have a phenomenal sense of smell, able to smell a passing ship from miles over the horizon. They have millions of receptors in their naval cavity and all are active compared to a human's which have millions of inactive genes. No ship alive today has a single inactive gene in their body.

HEARING: Submarines have the largest recorded hearing range of any animal on the planet. The largest range was recorded on the submarine USS Los Angeles (SSN-688) in 1974. Her range was determined to be anywhere between -1200 and 300,000 Hz. This large range requires a huge brain to process it and interpret each sound. Submarines brains are twice as large as the average whales. Postmortem studies of this organ have determined that a submarine's brain is relatively complex and while three lobed like a humans, its cerebral cortex is massive, making up 78% of the total mass of the brain. This suggests that submarines are not only clever but are the Einsteins of the seas. Whales by contrast, though their cerebral cortex is considered large as well, its no where near the size of a submarine's. Tests done in the 1960s and 70s determined that submarines could understand a majority of human commands. They could also learn languages foreign to their native countries. One submarine, HMS Conquerer was recorded to know and understand 97 different human languages.

Not only can they hear large amounts of sound, they are also very sensitive to it and can detect even the slightest vibration in the water from hundreds, if not thousands of miles away. However this sensitivity is also their Achilles heel as particularly loud sounds like sonar often damage the organs of the inner ear. More submarines have returned to port bleeding from their ears than whales washing up on the beach with the same phenomenon. The ratio is staggering, 10 times more submarines have damaged hearing by human based testing than whales. Ironically, most of the testing is done to improve submarine technology. The very thing that advances them is the very thing that's destroying them. With no Natural Selection to take hold, submarines can't develop a protection for their hearing.

New breakthroughs in science had allowed us to understand a submarine's anatomy much better and perhaps in time we will be able to actually build a sub with a protected ear but for now, curbing back on the noise we generate is key.

OTHER SENSES: With their large high frequency range, submarines have been suggested to use echo location to hear things. While they can indeed pic up on the echo location of other animals such as bats, orcas and some dolphin species it isn't certain if they generate their own.

A submarine's hunting style can be attributed to the shark. Both hunt in very similar ways. Some have suggested that in addition to a sub's superb sense of smell and hearing, they can detect the electrical fields of animals in the water just like sharks do but this remains to be seen.


	5. A Titanic Prank Backfires

"You're nothing but a noisy, lazy bitch!" "Oh yeah, well you are a fat good for nothing seaweed brain who stuffs her face with fish!"

The voices of Seawolf and the Eagle Eye II carried across the harbor of St. Johns Newfoundland.

"Seaworm!" Seawolf snapped.

"Sausage." Eagle retorted.

Seawolf sniffed. "I'll get you back, mark my words."

"Oh I'm so scared." Eagle laughed.

Seawolf eventually gave up and sailed away, more determined than ever to get back at her rival.

On the deck of a nearby research ship, fellow submarine Mir looked down.

"Having trouble?" She asked.

"You have no idea." Seawolf replied.

"Well, I'm heading out soon if you wanna come with. Maybe we can think of something together." Mir said.

Seawolf shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt I suppose." She agreed.

So at the end of the week, Seawolf sailed in company with the old Knorr.

Knorr had been doing numerous explorations of the deep sea since the 1970s but this was the first time since 1985 she'd be going back to the shipwreck that earned her fame, RMS Titanic.

Seawolf, for once, wished she could dive 2.5 miles and sea the great ship close up but it just wasn't possible.

Mir however, had a thoughtful look on her face the whole voyage there and when they arrived and saw Eagle's fishing lines in the area, a mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes.

"What do you have cooking in that noggin, Mir?" Seawolf asked.

"A rather, erm Titanic idea you could say." Mir snickered.

"Do tell." Seawolf said.

"If you can cut some of middle buoys off that line, I can pull it down to the bottom and snag it." Mir explained.

"Wouldn't that hurt?" Seawolf asked.

"Yes, and that's what I'm counting on. Consider it an alert if you will." Mir replied.

Seawolf caught on. "You're evil." She said.

Mir grinned. "I know."

Thus, Seawolf disconnected the buoys from the line and fed it to Mir who carried down with her to Titanic's wreck. She wrapped the decivingly strong line around Titanic's central propeller.

"Now when they go to haul it up, they'll either have it snap or they'll get a present." Mir said.

"Let's do it." Seawolf grinned.

The American submarine hid expertly as Eagle approached. She noticed something was not right with the buoys. They were moved.

"The line must've sunk." She said.

Sighing she began the long process of reeling it in, knowing that she wasn't going to get any fish this time. About halfway through, she felt something heavy on the line.

 _"Must've caught something after all."_ She thought.

Oh how right she was. A minute later the gleaming bronze of a four bladed propeller broke the surface.

"What the heck!" Eagle squawked.

Seawolf surface, laughing so hard she nearly turned turtle.

"Do you like your new present. That would look good on you." She said.

"Why you little ****!" Eagle shouted and started to chase after Seawolf but a black blur crossed in front of her.

Eagle screeched to a halt to avoid a collision and saw an ocean liner tearing after the submarine. Seawolf wasn't grinning now, she looked genuinely afraid.

"What have I told you about taking this that don't belong to you!" The liner snarled.

"HELLPPP MEEE!" Seawolf screamed.

Eagle laughed as Seawolf raced away back the United States with the Ancient on her tail.

Arleigh Burke was surprised to hear Seawolf screaming.

"What's got her propeller in a knot?" She wondered.

"She's being a chased by an Ancient." Virginia replied calmly.

"What'd she do?" Arleigh sighed.

"Apparently Titanic's shouting something about her propeller." Virginia replied.

Arleigh groaned. "I'm so making Seawolf scrub barnacles after this!" She said.

"Are we gonna help her?" Virginia asked, watching as Titanic came perilously close to biting the sub's sail.

Seawolf shrieked in terror and tried to go faster, too terrified to even try to dive. Diving would only make her lose ground.

"In a minute?" Arleigh shrugged.

She settled down beside Virginia as Seawolf ran for her life, no puns intended!

The submarine learned an important lesson that day. If you're gonna pull a prank, keep the Ancients out of it!


	6. An Age Old Rivalry

Obanan was feeling quite pleased with herself as she steamed along at the head of her group, by this time known as the Cactus Strike Force. "Prickly as hell." they always liked to say. Her sonar picked up a contact and it took her only seconds to realize what it was. "Jap sub!" She cried.

The commodore aboard her wanted to ram the sub as it was on the surface, Obanan was all for the idea but her captain wouldn't let her. "We don't know what would happen. It could cause an explosion." He said. "Hmph!" She sniffed but did as she was told and changed course. The sub appeared to be sleeping and didn't even notice her until she drew up alongside. Obanan licked her lips. It'd been 2 days since she last ate and right now, submarine was looking pretty tasty. She'd had one once before and it tasted a lot like mahi mahi.

The sub woke then and in a panic, tried to dive but Obanan was too quick. Lunging, she sunk her teeth into its flesh and came back up with the sub grasped firmly in her jaws. It wriggled around like a fish. "Let me go!" She wailed. "Let me go!" Obanan laughed. "You'll make a nice meal." She said. The sub's eyes went as wide as saucers. "You're not gonna eat me are you?!" She gasped. "What do you think?" Obanan replied and with one quick bite, dispatched it. "Supper's ready girls!" She called.

Her sister ships raced in, all eager to get their fill. Between the five of them, the submarine was barely more than a few mouthfuls for each but it was good meat and most welcome to their empty bellies. The five continued on in their mission, leaving the sub's carcass to sink beneath the waves.

...

"And that is why I'm asking you to leave me alone!" Obanan growled. She was docked in San Diego. USS Parche was there with her. The sub was eager to get on her nerves and so far it was working. "You wouldn't eat me?!" Parche asked, shocked. "Right now you're looking pretty tasty." Obanan purred, getting down to eye level with the sub and licking her lips. Parche, to her credit, just glared back. "I mean you wouldn't eat me because my meat is toxic to you." She replied. Obanan wasn't aware of this. "How so? I'm immune to mercury poisoning." She sniffed. "But not to Uranium." Parche retorted. "Stick to diesel boats." She growled and raced off, showering the destroyer with spray as she went. "Overgrown sausage." Obanan growled. "Lazy tin can." Parche retorted. "Black demon!" Obanan growled. "Fat, ice-cream loving shark bait!" Parche hissed. "Radioactive bitch!" Parche looked a bit surprised at this one, then burst out laughing.

"You're nothing but a slow, fat, lazy, sun-loving, wave eating ********!" Parche growled. "Oh go eat your own reactor." Obanan snorted. "Bitch." Parche muttered. "Black sausage." Obanan growled. "Hmph!" "Hmph!"

Later, Iowa came by and laughed at the sight of the two ships arguing. "Some rivalries never end." He said.


	7. Art of Begging

"Please!" Greeneville's voice filled San Francisco's ears. "Please, please, please, please, please!"

The older submarine groaned as her sister continued to pester her.

Ever since she heard that for the first time in years, the navy wouldn't be sending up any ships to the Rose Festival, Greeneville had been begging her sister to take her for the simple reason of, no other ships, more food to go around.

"You're being ridiculous Greene. You know we can't just sneak out and back without someone noticing we're gone." San Fransisco sighed.

"We're submarines, sneaking is what we live for!" Greeneville laughed.

"Please!" She begged.

"Greene..." San Fransisco began but made the mistake by looking into her sister's wide eyes.

She was giving her that face.

"Greeneville don't give me that..." She begged but it was too late.

Greeneville had her hooked and she knew it.

"Ugh! Fine!" San Fransisco conceded.

"YAY!" Greeneville squealed, chasing her rudder in her excitement.

"But behave yourself, you got that!" San Fransisco growled.

"I'll be on my best behavior big sis." Greeneville promised.

"Somehow I doubt that." San Fransisco sighed.

Greeneville was hyper enough on just nuclear power.

Add human food to that and she'd be bouncing off the metaphorical walls!

But at least she'd crash soon after and give San Fransisco a decent night's sleep for once.

The pair waited until nightfall before slipping their moorings lines and sailed silently off into the night.

It was a 2 day sail to the mainland US and would take the pair another half day to get up the Columbia River.

"I want you to stay close to me. Keep a sharp eye out for shipping." San Fransisco told her. "We'll be doing this submerged to avoid detection so keep clear of anything that moves."

"Got it." Greeneville replied, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated.

San Fransisco guided her sibling to the river junction where they entered the Willamette.

"Nice thing about being a sub?" Greeneville asked her as they passed under a series of bridges, only their top periscope making a trail on the water.

"You can just dive under the bridges." San Fransisco replied. "Almost there." She reported.

The pair arrived along the water front, seeing a bunch of kids playing. What's more, they all had lunch in their hands.

"FOOD!" Greeneville cried.

"Greene!" San Fransisco called after her as her sister raced off towards shore.

The tip of her mast was exposed above water as she raced along and the kids saw this.

"Look, there's something in the water!" One cried.

"Is it a shark?" Another asked.

"Sharks don't live in rivers!" The first retorted. "Do they?" He asked uncertainly.

"Whatever it is, it's coming up fast." The second boy said.

Approaching the dock, Greeneville burst out of the water, dousing the boys.

"Whoa!" They cried as the submarine stuck her bow out of the water, her rudders waggling eagerly.

"Its a submarine!" The first boy cried.

"Aw, she's adorable!" The second added.

Greeneville purred as one knelt down and pet her nose. She liked being touched but that wasn't why she came here. She gave the boy's hand a harsh nudge and gave him the saddest puppy dog eyes she could manage.

"I don't believe it!" The boy cried. "She's begging for food!"

Greeneville wagged her stern in reply, begging for something.

"That's just too cute!" The boy said. He handed her a piece of his hot dog which she took gratefully.

She licked his hand.

"You're welcome." He chuckled, stroking her nose again.

San Fransisco broke the surface then.

"Two of them?!" The boy cried as the older sub made her way much more conservatively to the dock. She too gave him the big eyes.

"You want some too huh?" The boy laughed and gave her the remaining piece of his lunch.

"I wasn't going to eat it anyway." He said as San Fransisco devoured it. She too licked his hand in thanks.

"You both are adorable." The boy said as the subs looked around for more.

"Wait here, I'll find you something." He said and raced off, his friends following.

"Isn't this great?" Greeneville asked.

"You know you shouldn't have charged up like that." San Fransisco told her.

"Aw, you're just jealous because I got first pickings." Greeneville said.

"Am not!" San Fransisco growled, a bit too defensively.

"That's what I thought!" Greeneville sang triumphantly.

San Fransisco glared and bit her sister's plane.

"Ouch!" Greeneville whined, dancing around, holding her fin.

"You're such a big baby!" San Fransisco laughed.

Greeneville glared. "What'd you do that for?!" She growled.

"To shut you up!" San Fransisco replied.

Greeneville huffed and turned her attention back to the dock, her rudder waggling again as the boys returned, arms full of hot dogs and hamburgers.

The smell of meat made Greeneville's mouth water and she eagerly thrust her bow out for some.

The boy pulled back. "Ah, ah. This time you're gonna have to work for it." He said.

She pouted but listened carefully.

He held the treat up in front of her. "Sit." He said.

"I'm not a dog." Greeneville grumbled but complied, dropping her stern down vertical.

"Good girl." the boy said and gave her the food. She snatched it up eagerly, licking her lips before looking around for more.

He laughed. "Lie down?" He suggested.

She giggled and rolled on her side.

"Good girl." He praised her, this time rubbing her snout before giving her the piece of meat.

She purred appreciatively.

The other boy was doing the same thing with San Fransisco who eagerly showed off her navigation skills for him.

"Play dead." The boy said to Greeneville.

Grenville rolled her eyes and flipped belly up, sticking her tongue out of the left side of her mouth.

San Fransisco let loose with a laugh, the sight was just too funny.

The boy laughed too. "Okay, that's pretty good." he said to Greeneville, giving her the treat.

"Roll over." The other boy told San Fransisco.

The sub did, doing a 360 degree somersault under water before coming back up.

"Good girl!" The boy cried, tossing her the treat. "Catch!" He cried and San Fransisco snatched the food up in mid air.

"JUMP!" Both boys cried next for the last performance.

San Fransisco and Greeneville, eager to outdue one another, leaped as high as they could, clearing the water by at least 20 feet before coming back down with a huge splash that soaked the whole waterfront.

The boys shook themselves off and exclaimed "awesome!" The subs got the last of the food and now, with their bellies full, they rolled against the dock and submitted themselves to attention.

"This one likes belly rubs." one boy said as he got Greeneville to roll over, scratching her black keel.

"So does this one." Another said as he rubbed San Fransisco, causing the older submarine to purr happily.

A third boy took out his phone and took photos of the cute sight before doing a quick search based on the numbers on the subs sails. "USS Greeneville, and USS San Fransisco." He said, pointing to each of the subs in turn.

The subs squealed an affirmative. "Mind if I call you Greene?" The boy asked Greeneville as he stroked her.

She purred in agreement.

"I like the nickname Frisco for you." The other boy said, tickling the sub's belly. San Fransisco squealed happily.

Greeneville was so right to bring them here. It was heaven!

"Oi! What are you boys doing!" Shouted a man. Greeneville assumed him to be the boys' father.

"Look at these two, aren't they cute!" the eldest said.

"I can very well see them, John, what I want to know is what they're doing here." The man growled. "The navy said very specifically it wasn't going to send any of its ship's up here.

"Well maybe these two came of their own accord." John replied and Greeneville bobbed her head in agreement.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well you've had your fun. Go on, shoo!" He ordered them, waving his hands at them.

Greeneville pouted.

"Go on, get!" The man growled, waving his arms threateningly.

The subs squealed and raced off.

"Aw, you scared them off!" John complained.

As the man was waving his hands, the hamberger he had flew out and into the water where it was quickly snatched up by Greeneville who circled back around.

"Oh, no come on!" The man cried.

Greeneville thrust herself out of the water and pinned the man down before licking his face with her big wet slobbery tongue.

"EWW!" The man cried while his sons just laughed.

"Awesome!" They said.

John gave Greeneville a pat and the sub purred, pressing her nose to his hand before diving back into the water.

"Bye Greene, bye Frisco!" John called after them as they raced away downriver.

"Aw, why do they have to go?" His younger brother asked.

John put his arm around his brother's neck, pulling him in for a nuggie.

"Because little squirt they have jobs to do. And we've distracted them long enough." He replied.

"Think we'll see them again." The younger asked.

"Oh I'm sure of it." John chuckled.

...

It was 2 years later that John enlisted in the Submarine force. his first assignment, USS Greeneville.

As he walked along the pier at the base in Pearl Harbor, he spotted the sub resting lazily against the dock.

"Heya Greene." He said.

She slowly raised her head and opened her eyes with a huge yawn.

She'd changed a bit since he'd last seen her. She had matured some, she wasn't nearly as hyper. A huge scar ran its way down the side of her head from a collision with another boat and one of her eyes was disfigured from it.

John knelt down, holding out his hand. In it was a hot dog.

Greeneville sniffed it experimentally before diving into it. He chuckled but his heart wrenched as she gazed up at him, clear confusion in her eyes.

She no longer remembered who he was.

"It me, Greene. It's John. Remember, from the Rose Festival?" He questioned her.

Her eyes clouded over as she tried to think back but she shook her head slowly. Her brain was damaged enough in her collision for her to forget.

"You poor thing." John sighed, stroking her nose gently.

She purred, whimpering an apology for not remembering.

"Hey, it's okay. I have a friend who had a coma once. He had to relearn his whole life." John assured her.

She whimpered again, pressing her nose to his chest.

"Don't worry. I'm your new crew member. I'll be helping you along, alright." He assured her.

She licked his hand in thanks, her stern waggling weakly.

"That's more like the Greeneville I know." John chuckled as she sniffed his pockets for more food.


	8. Boomer to Ballistic: Romance Edition

Florida, like all the other SSBN submarines, had heard the rumors. She'd heard that the navy was looking for submarines to convert into the new SSGN, the guided missile subs. It was a load of krypton in her opinion. If the navy wanted a new class of sub so bad it should build new ones, not call upon old ladies like the Ohio-class.

Entering her home base in Kings Bay, Florida saw her younger sister Tennessee there. She was taking on provisions for her next trip out. Florida pressed her nose to her sail in greeting. It was rare for the two to be seen in port together as they were always out on missions.

"You're back early." Tennessee noticed.

"Had a stray current helping me." Florida replied. "But I'm not complaining."

"Candy heart." Tennessee chuckled as she nuzzled her. Florida returned it.

"I've missed you." She said.

"So have I but you know the drill." Tennessee shrugged.

"I do but that doesn't make it easy." Florida sighed.

"What aspects of this job are easy. I'd certainly love to do them myself." Tennessee said.

"That's only because you're a lazy stern." Florida teased.

"I rarely see the sun. It's nice to feel it once in a while." Tennessee snorted. "Anyway its better than housing a daycare."

"Oi!" Florida looked indignant. "Someone had to watch the kids while the moms took their husbands out for the night. They didn't need to know what would go on."

Tennessee shuddered despite herself. "Human mating rituals, ugh!" She said.

"They're not so bad actually. Not much different than us." Florida said.

"Don't tell me you've actually witnessed it!" Tennessee cried.

"No, but I have seen human porn films." Florida replied.

"Ugh! Only you would dare to do that." Tennessee said.

"You've got internet somewhere in that computer brain of yours, look it up." Florida encouraged.

"I'm good thanks." Florida snorted. "But they are interesting." She nibbled on her sister's propeller. "You know incest is frowned upon in their culture, as is mating with the same sex."

"Stupid apes don't know what they're missing out on." Tennessee purred. "You know I'd love to Flo but I've got provisions to finish. I leave in 3 hours."

Florida pressed her ear to her hull. "Sooner than that if your humming reactor is anything to go by. Or is that just a flutter regarding my presence?" She purred.

Tennessee nudged her. "Stop it!" She laughed, swiping her tongue across her ear.

Florida purred, leaning into the touch as she pressed her head against her sister's chin and lower jaw. The pair rubbed their bows together lovingly.

"I will wait your return, _amour natil." [1]_ She whispered.

"And I will pine for you until I do, _corisonetis." [2]_ Tennessee replied.

The pair kissed a few times before Tennessee was forced to come about and set her bow for the open sea. "Fair winds and following seas my love." She whispered.

...

Instead of heading out again a few days later as planned, Florida was surprised to find that all her scheduled voyages for the next 3 years were canceled.

"The four eldest Ohio-class, including Ohio herself, are to be converted into SSGN's. You're the fourth eldest. Your sisters have already undergone their conversions." said a dockworker.

"How much is this going to cost?" Florida asked.

"You let the Navy worry about that." He replied.

"Tell me!"

"A billion, each."

"Each?!" Florida cried. "Damn..."

"I sense reluctance that doesn't entirely have to do with the cost." He noticed.

"Well, it's just that I have someone in my life." Florida began.

"Ah, it's always that special someone isn't it?" He chuckled.

"And well, I wonder how she'll take it." Florida sighed.

He bit his lip as he thought. "Well, I cannot tell you what to do Florida. All I can say that if this ship, whoever she is, loves you, truly loves you, she won't mind your conversion one bit!"

"Thank you..." Florida murmured, giving him one last nod of thanks as she entered drydock.

...

Tennessee's crew had heard of Florida's scheduled conversion before leaving port but kept it secret from their submarine. They didn't want her to become too focused on that and less focused on her mission. That's when mistakes happened.

When she was told however, Tennessee overrrided her helmsman's controls and raced into Kings Bay at top speed.

"Where's Florida?" She demanded of a nearby worker. _"Where's my mate?"_

"She's in Drydock 3." He replied, looking shocked at the sight of the submarine, sweat gleaming on her flanks as they heaved from exertion.

Tennessee nodded her thanks and raced off for the drydocks.

Reaching drydock three she hauled herself out of the water, flopping forward like a seal. Balancing on her stern, she rested her bow over the edge of the concrete wall and looked down at her sister.

Various tubes and wires connected Florida to a host of machines. Tennessee noticed a heart monitor beeping away steadily and a headgear set that measured the electromagnetic pulses of her brainwave activity. Tubes in her nostrils connected to a series of oxygen tanks nearby to help her breathe and at least half a dozen IV drips leaked medications, nutrients, fluids, etc. into her bloodstream.

The submarine's back was torn open as the missile cylos were removed and reformatted to carry tomahawks instead of trident missiles. Florida was tied down on all sides to keep her from moving even an inch. She had to lie flat on her belly for the whole procedure. Tennessee whimpered. It pained her to see her sister like this.

She reached out over the bond, feeling only the faint hum of her sister's dreams. Florida had all her mental firewalls up and Tennessee didn't try and break through. She would respect her sister's privacy unless in a state of dire emergency. She rubbed her mind up against the walls to let her sister know she was there. A few workers looked over as the heart and brain monitors spiked briefly then returned to normal.

"Family only is allowed." said the foreman as he noticed Tennessee for the first time.

"She's my sister." Tennessee growled. The matter was dropped.

...

Tennessee needed to go to the docks to provision but she wouldn't dare leave her mate's side. She couldn't. Her executive officer ordered her to go. Her captain ordered her to go. Finally, the Sub Base Commander gave her direct orders to go to the docks and provision but Tennessee ignored them all. Nothing would make her leave Florida.

Giving in, personal brought the provisions to her instead. Eventually it was time to go again but Tennessee was reluctant as ever.

"Tenn, you have a job to do." said a workman.

"I can't leave her..." Tennessee whimpered. "I-I love her."

He nodded knowingly. "Your mission is to protect this country, and by extension Florida as well. If you don't do it, then who will?"

And that was all the encouragement Tennessee needed.

...

For the next 3 years, from July 2003 to April 2006, it became routine for Tennessee to return from a mission, go straight to her sister's drydock for a few days while provisions were loaded, and then head out again.

With the overhaul completed, one last task remained and it was perhaps the most dangerous. The refueling of her nuclear reactor. For a submarine, this was the human equivalent of a heart transplant. It was a procedure that required only the top experts. Get it wrong, and Florida would die.

Tennessee wouldn't dare leave Florida's side now, even though she was scheduled to head out. She begged and pleaded with the navy to let her stay, finally forced to reveal the long kept secret of the pair being mates. This would force the navy to station the two together both at home and on mission. They reluctantly did so, telling her very sternly not to hide such things from them again.

Thus it was Greenville who took Tennessee's place. The Los Angeles-class fast attack submarine was not designed for boomer patrols but after 2 years of therapy following the Ehime Maru incident and 2 others following, Greenville was eager to get back to work. Tennessee graciously gave her the task of the patrol.

The smaller sub looked like someone had just handed her the keys to the castle, until the boomer shot her a glare. The message was clear. _"This is a simple task. Do NOT screw it up."_

Humbled, Greenville left quietly, determined not to draw the bigger sub's wrath again.

Sighing and shaking her head in mild amusement, Tennessee turned her attention back to Florida. The workers had rolled her on her back and re-lashed the lines holding her in place. Then they'd cut her wide open, trunk to caudal keel. A machine took over the duties of pumping the radioactive blood around her body and the reactor slowly shut down.

A refueling like this, like a heart transplant required that the patient be woken several times to ensure all was running smoothly. So for the first time in 3 years, Tennessee gazed into her sister's green eyes, darkened to a flat dull leafy color with the lack of uranium in her bloodstream. Florida smiled at her, eyes brightening a bit.

 _"Talo, mi corisonetis." [3]_ She whispered.

 _"Talo, sienna. Mi amourante." [4]_ Tennessee replied. "Rest, it will be over soon."

Florida sighed, growing sleepy as the sedative was applied. She went back to sleep.

Once the reactor was off, men in lead suits worked quickly to remove the waste and insert a new batch of uranium fuel. Tennessee test sniffed the new lump to ensure it was right grade before it was put in. She gave the all clear and watched as they attempted to start the reactor up again. Only one problem, it wouldn't start. It kept scramming for some reason.

"Florida, don't do this now please!" Tennessee whimpered, reaching out over the bond. She could feel her sister fading away from her. She reached out with increasing desperation.

In the virtual world of their bond, Tennessee's fin brushed her sister's floating, spinning body. She groped until she found Florida's fin and pulled her sister against her. She could feel Florida's resistance at first. "No, I won't let you!" She cried.

She kept reaching out over the bond only to reach the strong firewalls of Florida's protected mind. Instead of stopping there, Tennessee forced her way through, one firewall at a time. Florida fought her hard. Then she broke through, her presence nearly overwhelming all her sister's senses.

 _"I'm here and I'm never letting you go."_

Florida's resistance faded and Tennessee felt her sister cling to her.

 _"I'm here, I'm here. Stay with me."_ She kissed the top of her head, holding her tight against her as the black began to turn indigo, then dark blue.

Together they broke the surface, both gasping for breath as their mental shields snapped back into place and they emerged back into the real world. Tennessee rolled over, surprised to find she'd landed on her back against the hard metal slipway. She could feel blood running down her sides and more having pooled on the ground but ignored it for the time being.

 _"Tennessee..."_

Tennessee stiffened as she heard her sister's mental cry and rose back up again over the drydock wall. Florida was conscious as well, eyes darting around her warily as she searched for her, then she saw her.

A wave of love washed over the bond, so strong it nearly choked Tennessee who responded with her own. It was pure, undiluted love, untainted from any sorrow or hate. All that was forgotten in that moment as the two mates sought each other, and found one another again.

 _"Ne merandsi."[5]_ Tennessee whispered.

Florida blushed and giggled shyly. _"Donkkiss." [6]_ She accused.

It was Tennessee's turn to giggle. _"Crima te donkiss corisonetis?" [7]_ She asked.

 _"Neina." [8]_ Florida replied.

She shifted a bit, uncertain. _"Tennessee. Ye compu, nenei merm mermani?" [9]_ She asked.

Tennessee sighed, wishing she could stretch her nose out far enough to nuzzle her. The bond sufficed though as she sent the mental image to Florida as she replied _"Florida, ye mermandi eterna ne." [10]_

Florida smiled. _"Ne amour ye." [11]_

Tennessee smiled as well. _"Ne amour yeta. Eterna de eterna. Solistice nein." [12]_

...

Translations:

1\. The heart of my compass  
2\. The love of my heart  
3\. Hello, my heart.  
4\. Hello, my sister. My dearest love.  
5\. You look beautiful.  
6\. Flatterer.  
7\. Is it a crime to flatter you my love?  
8\. No.  
9\. Tennessee, you think my new look is pretty?  
10\. Florida, you will always be beautiful to me.  
11\. I love you.  
12\. I love you too. Forever and always. Until the sun ceases to shine.


	9. Drinking Contest

Scorpion happily nursed her bottle of vodka. There was a party going on and the sub was happy to be a part of it. Queen Mary eyed the sub's drink curiously.

"Do you have more of those?" She asked.

"Sure do, you want one?" Scorpion answered.

The liner nodded and so the sub handed her a fresh bottle.

"This is strong stuff so be careful." She warned.

"Don't worry, alcohol can't hurt me anymore." Queen Mary replied.

Alcohol was only poisonous to liners because the way their engines were designed. When it got into them, it would cause them to run faster and overheat. In an ironic twist, Queen Mary was immune to this now as she had no engines.

The former Cunard liner popped the cork on the bottle and took a good size swig.

"Mmm, that's good." She said.

Scorpion took a swig of her own.

"Vodka of my home. None better." She replied.

Queen Mary's eyes held a twinkle to them as she said "Think you can best me?" and took another swig.

"Oooh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Scorpion chuckled.

"Bring it Ruskie." Queen Mary replied.

"Oh it is on Queenie." Scorpion replied with a smirk and quickly downed the rest of her bottle, smashing it against the dock.

The two ships drank well into the night.

As some passengers came outside to clear their heads before going back inside, they saw the two ships' little contest.

"She'll be feeling that tomorrow." One said.

Altogether, the two ships went through about a dozen bottles each before they started to feel the effects.

"Good stuff *hic*" Queen Mary said.

"Delicious." Scorpion replied with a belch.

"Nice one. Go again?" Queen Mary asked.

"You still going?" Scorpion asked.

Queen Mary laughed. "You better believe it squirt." She replied.

Scorpion raised an eyebrow. The look in Queen Mary's eyes was electrifying and it'd been a while since the liner had been in such a good mood. Scorpion supposed it was the alcohol.

"Alright, here you are." Scorpion said as she handed her another bottle.

Queen Mary was so drunk she was having a hard time just grabbing the bottle and popping the cork off. Eventually she managed it and quickly downed the bottle in a few fast gulps. A second hiccup escaped her afterwards.

Despite her resilience, Queen Mary eventually passed out against the ledge, Scorpion a bottle later. The Russian sub was the first to wake in the morning and she had a nasty headache but she was used to hangovers and could tolerate them. Queen Mary on the other hand was still passed out drunk. She woke later in the afternoon.

"Hey sleepyhead." Scorpion greeted.

"Ngh..." Queen Mary groaned.

"How's your head?" Scorpion asked.

"Pounding!" Queen Mary replied, her eyes shut tight.

Feeling nauseous, she gave a low moan.

Scorpion, who knew exactly what was to come cried "Oh no Mary don't.."

"BLAGH!"

Queen Mary was quickly covered in her own vomit and more drifted around her.

Scorpion shivered in disgust as it swirled around her own hull.

"Ugh!" She said.

A loud, long belch followed the event.

"Feel better?" Scorpion asked her companion.

Queen Mary shook her head.

"No." She moaned before puking again.

This went on for several minutes before Scorpion found someone to give the ship a bucket.

Queen Mary spent much of the rest of the day throwing up. She learned an important lesson then, never ever challenge a Russian to a drinking contest!


	10. Friends and Rivals

_Written in honor of the crew of the Kursk. Rest in Peace..._

AUGUST 12, 2000

Memphis kept her ears pricked and her eyes open as she eavesdropped on Russian fleet exercises.

The war games were about to get underway and while she knew she wasn't supposed to be there that didn't stop her. Never stopped her before.

There was another submarine nearby. Memphis could sense her.

Oscar II-class by the sound of her propeller.

Breathing in deep, tasting her fellow submarine through the molecules in the water, she could say with confidence her rival was 6 years old and fresh out of Merinsk.

The sub was giving up high levels of endorphins suggesting she was primed and eager for the war games she was about to participate in.

"It never gets old." Memphis said to herself as she recalled her own first war games.

She always got a thrill out of alluding her surface escorts. Even when she tried to make herself visible so they could get their own practice in they couldn't always find her.

"Now you see me, now you don't!" was her favorite saying at those times.

Glancing once more at her sonar she saw the other submarine was right on course as expected.

She didn't even know Memphis was there.

"I miss the Cold War." She sighed.

Now those were the days. True cat and mouse games. Nothing better!

Her fine hearing picked up a dull thud nearby.

"Hmm?" She murmured, turning towards the sound.

She glanced at her sonar again, and saw that the other submarine had changed its course by almost 90 degrees. At the same time her depth was rising.

"She must be stalling out." Memphis realized when she heard a second, louder noise that she now knew to be an explosion.

"Uh oh." She muttered as she watched the other sub plummet straight down to the sea floor over 300 feet below.

In that split second the American made her decision.

Risking detection, she engaged her engines and dove down after her.

The rising darkness made it difficult to see but Memphis merely engaged her inferred vision to combat that.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" She called down.

A weak reply was heard, English heavy with a Russian accent.

"Yes, I can hear you. What are you doing here Yank?"

"I'm here to help you." Memphis replied.

"Just admit it. You were eavesdropping." The other sub growled.

Memphis groaned. "Okay, so I was. But I'm not doing that now." She said. "What's your name?"

"Kursk." The Russian groaned.

"Alright Kursk, keep talking to me so I can find ya." Memphis ordered as she approached.

"Rotting talapia, this hurts!" Kursk cried.

"What happened? I heard two explosions." Memphis asked, finding the other sub and touching her nose to her side.

"Torpedo. Hydrogen peroxide must've leaked out and ignited." Kursk answered.

Memphis sucked in a breath, thanking her lucky stars she no longer carried such a volatile device.

"My whole bow is flooded. The water, it-it'll be reaching my lungs soon. I've only got minutes." Kursk said.

"I can get you up to the surface." Memphis said.

"And risk being discovered? No way!" Kursk hissed. "If they know you're here. They'll blow you out of the water!"

"And risk an international incident." Memphis snorted. "I'm willing to take my chances."

"Well I'm not." Kursk growled. "Just get out of here as fast as you can."

"I'm not going anywhere." Memphis sighed. "I'm staying with you."

"You-you'd really do that?" Kursk asked.

"Of course. You may fly a different flag but were both submarines." Memphis replied.

Kursk relaxed. "Thank you..." She whispered.

Memphis licked the top of her head, ignoring the blood that flowed from the wound there where the explosion had torn through her hull.

"Talk to me please. I-I don't want to be alone..." Kursk whimpered.

"What would you like to hear?" Memphis asked.

Kursk thought. What would she like to hear in her last moments?

"Tell me about Nautilus? What's she like?"

Memphis smiled, her eyes brightening at the thought of the mother of all nuclear submarines.

"Nautilus is a sweetheart. She can be a bit stern at times but that's only because she cares for us all very much. She's the mother of the modern fleet and let's all of us know it too."

Kursk chuckled, a shudder running through her.

Her breathing quickened, becoming more ragged and shallow as the air capacity in her lungs was replaced by water.

"This is it." She gasped.

Memphis held her tight to her side.

"Just relax, don't fight it." She murmured soothingly.

"T-Thank you, Memphis." Kursk rasped. "I would've been proud to call you my friend."

"As would I, little sister." Memphis replied.

Kursk giggled at this, licking Memphis' cheek affectionately.

"Farewell Yank." She said as the last breath left her body.

Her eyes glassed over and Memphis closed them gently.

The Russian's end was quicker the most and Memphis was thankful for that.

"Farewell." She whispered quietly and set Kursk back down gently. She sailed off back to the states.

...

Memphis never told anyone of her little excursion to Russian waters.

But every year, on the 12 of August, the Los Angeles-class submarine would retreat to a far corner of the harbor or if she was out on patrol, find a shallow part of the ocean and sink down to the floor and rest there.

Her eyes would glaze over, and the tears would fall as she remembered her sister of the sea, her rival and her friend, the Russian submarine K-141, Kursk.


	11. Killer Shipyards

Memphis winced as she listened to Miami's coughing. Her younger sister was due for an Engineering Overhaul and it couldn't have come a moment too soon. The Los Angeles-class submarine was suffering from a severe respiratory infection and it was hoped that the overhaul would cure it.

"When do you go in?" Memphis asked.

"1 week." Miami rasped, coughing so hard all her fins jerked.

Memphis blinked her concern. Her sister was sicker than she was letting on. She gently brushed her hull against her, feeling Miami's ribs. Her sister was steel and bones!

"Miami, you have to go in now and get yourself looked at!" She growled.

"I'm fine!" Miami retorted, suppressing a shudder.

"No you're not. You can barely get a word in you're coughing so much. You've had to put up with this cough for months." Memphis said.

"And I can live with it a week longer." Miami growled.

Memphis sighed. "Just go sis. I know you're sicker than you're letting on. Why won't you go in?"

Miami bowed her head. "I've heard rumors." She said, spluttering. She coughed up phlegm before speaking again. "There's a saboteur about. He's attacked two ships already, a destroyer and an LCS. What if it's me next?"

"That won't happen." Memphis replied.

"How can you be so sure?" Miami whimpered.

"Because I'm going in there with you." Memphis answered.

"Why risk yourself for me?" Miami asked.

Her coughs this time were so hard that she fell against her sister fully, lying flat on her belly as they wracked her. She struggled, eyes widening as she realized she couldn't breathe. Memphis acted swiftly, whacking her sister across her back. Miami convulsed, lungs clearing as she coughed up a load of phlegm.

"You have to go in." Memphis ordered.

Miami sighed. "You didn't answer my question." She said.

"Don't you know?" Memphis asked. "You're my sister and I love you. Now come on before you suffocate yourself in another coughing fit."

Miami reluctantly agreed.

...

The night of May 23 2012 would become a night that would forever haunt Memphis' memories, for however long she had left to live.

Miami was set ablaze by the saboteur she'd worried about to Memphis. Memphis tried to get to her, sneak into her floating drydock somehow but that didn't work. The workman were struggling to get the fire under control and Memphis was forced to remain outside as she listened to her sister's pleas for help.

"Memphis? Memphis where are you?! You said you'd be here. Where are you?!" Miami wailed.

Memphis whimpered. "I'm here sister!" She called back.

"Where are you?!" Miami cried. "You're not in the drydock with me."

"I'm right outside, they won't let me in!" Memphis replied.

"There's hardly any room anyways." Miami answered. "Memphis, you're not going anywhere right?"

"I made a promise didn't I? I'm right here, right beside you." Memphis answered.

Miami's coughing started up again and Memphis grimaced at the sound. It reminded her too much of Kursk in her last moments. Memphis' eyes clouded over as those memories haunted her again.

"Memphis? Memphis you there?!"

Miami's frantic voice snapped Memphis out of it. "I'm here!" She replied.

"Memphis the fire's out." Miami reported. "But I'm bleeding like a bitch in here!"

They drydock scuppers poured crimson water into the sea and the tide just kept on coming. "She'll bleed to death." Memphis whispered. "Get someone to stop that bleeding!" Frantic, she forced her way through the wall of workman guarding the drydock and budged in beside her sister.

Miami looked awful. Most of her hull was covered in awful burn sores, the paint blistered away and the metal warped. Her cough sounded worse than ever, breathing coming in a slow painful wheeze. She held gauze on a deep gash in her belly.

"Poseidon Miami..." Memphis whispered. "Someone help her!"

"We're already doing everything we can!" replied a civilian workman, the name Fury on his ID.

Memphis got a funny feeling about him, her fins twitching as her instants flared. Her gut was telling her not to trust this man. _"He's the one. He's the one."_ A pair of voices in her head whispered.

Memphis snarled. "Back away from my sister!" She hissed.

Fury held a look of confusion on his face but at the sight of the pissed of Los Angeles-class submarine, he did so. "He's the one who did it." Memphis growled to the authorities. "Arrest him!"

"How do you know?" questioned a police officer.

"Would you doubt a sub's instincts?" Memphis shot back. "They've always proven to be right."

Fury growled. "Damn you sausages!" He hissed. He pulled out a gun at Memphis and pulled the trigger.

A black blur shot in front of her and Memphis was pushed back. Miami stiffened as the armor piercing bullet hit her back, just aft of her sail. She stiffened, jaws parted in a soundless shriek. Then went slack against her sister.

"NO!" Memphis roared, gripping her slack body. "Miami look at me. Look at me." She patted her sister's face as her head bobbed limply, calling her name numerous times. But those ocean blue eyes never opened. They would never open again. Memphis, already knowing and dreading the answer, felt for a pulse. There was none. The bullet had pierced Miami's heart, she'd died almost instantaneously. Died protecting her sister who'd been unable to do the same.

There was no mistaking the meaning of Memphis' wail that was heard as far south as Norfolk and as far North as St. Johns. Up and down that section of coastline, people in every town stopped. Those who had hats removed them in respect, others saluted, but most weeped. A United States Submarine was dead. Dead in a tragic murder that never should've happened.


	12. Lithium Addiction: Part 1

Part 1: Whisper

PEARL HARBOR NAVAL BASE, FORD ISLAND OAHU. JUNE 2001

...

 _Catch me as I fall. Say "you're here and it's all over now"._

A lone submarine sat in drydock, she was a Los Angeles-class if anyone bothered to look at her but most wouldn't. The sight of her cut open head would've made any person throw up. Skin was drawn back and the hard steel skull drilled into in an effort to relieve the pressure building on the sub's brain.

 _Speaking to the atmosphere, no one's here and I fall into myself._

USS Greeneville had arrived here unconscious, her crew taking over her engines. She sported a nasty gash on the left side of her head that extended to the jawbone. Her nose was broken, twisted to one side and her left eye was disfigured. It was too early to say if it could be saved. It wasn't clear early on how bad the damage was until a bulge was noticed on the left side of her head. Swelling had occurred, pushing the skull outwards and causing it to crack under pressure. The skin ruptured and minor bleeding occurred. Shortly thereafter, Greeneville's entire left brain cavity was exposed to open air in the hopes that the pressure upon it could be relieved. The cause of the swelling was revealed to be a deep abscess, too deep for the work crews to drain. They had to hope that Greeneville's natural ability to deal with such things was up to par. As it was currently, the submarine rested relatively comfortably in the dock. Every few hours, her fins would twitch as though she was dreaming, but since that first time, the workman knew it was more than that.

 _This truth drives me into madness!_

Following the fin twitching, Greeneville's hull would start to quiver. At first it wasn't noticeable until they became full body convulsions that knocked down instruments and threatened shutting down the life support system she was hooked up to. The shaking stopped altogether when a doctor injected Lithium into one of the IV's. The mood stabilizer seemed to work but everyone knew what such responses meant, they just didn't dare speak it out loud.

 _I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away._

Not even a week into repairs and Greeneville was already showing signs of a Lithium addiction. It wasn't too surprising since Lithium was like Meth to submarines. It was easy for them to become addicted to the mood stabilizer. In World War 2 and the Cold War, it was a huge problem for the navy. Submarines born in that era were still regular users, though required rehab courses helped to reduce their daily dosage. Very few though had given it up completely. Greeneville was born after the Cold War so she never got into the heavy drug use of the 70s and 80s generation of submarines. Now however, the foreman feared that is just what had happened.

 _If I will it all away!_

USS Greeneville had developed an addiction to Lithium. It was only just a matter of time before she realized it.

 _Don't turn away. (Don't give into the fear)_

 _Don't try to hide. (Though they're screaming your name)_

 _Don't close your eyes. (Who knows what lies behind them)_

 _Don't turn out the light. (Never sleep, never die)_


	13. Lithium Addiction: Part 2

Part 2: Going Under

PEARL HARBOR NAVAL BASE, FORD ISLAND OAHU. DECEMBER 2002

 _Now I will tell you what I've done for you._

It was a few months after Greeneville had been released from drydock. She was getting on well with her therapy sessions. She had to completely relearn everything her brain trauma was that severe! Not only did she have to learn simple tasks like the proper way to eat. She even had to learn how to talk again. Relearning both her native tongue and English was difficult as Greeneville's brain was no longer set at the age where doing so would be easy. She'd learn a word and then forget it again. It was frustrating. More than once the submarine would attempt to stagger away in that lopsided gait she'd developed after the injury only to be called back to try again. She wanted to learn, to please. That much was clear but she felt as though she was failing and it showed.

 _50,000 tears I've cried._

After most speech therapy seasons, Greeneville would wonder back to her berth, close the curtains, and cry. Sometimes for hours straight. It was times like these that her Lithium intake increased as she tried to use the drugs stabilizing properties to take the edge off her frustration. Initially, it did work but as she became accustomed to it, it's effect began to dampen. Greeneville tried to get off it and find something stronger but discovered she couldn't. She'd become addicted. So instead she increased her intake again, until its effect could be felt. Soon she was taking 4 times the recommended dosage, close to the same amount as the Cold War subs did and she showed no signs of stopping.

 _Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you! But you still won't hear me!_

It wasn't uncommon nowadays for some ship to come by Greeneville's berth in the morning and find her passed out in a sprawled position, holding an empty needle in her fin, the bottle of Lithium sitting on the dock. If she didn't get her daily dosage, Greeneville would become irritable, grouchy, and just plain lousy to be around. Like one of those grumpy, hard to please, 3 star Admirals that come by every once in a while. Greeneville proved she could be just as bad as them, if not worse. If she didn't get her way, she'd scream and whine until she did. The doctors had stopped prescribing her the Lithium but Greeneville found ways to get some, usually through illegal means. She of course, would deny to it if asked. When she was feeling stressed, saddened, or angered about something and the Lithium wasn't on hand she'd take to biting herself, hard enough to draw blood. Her hull bore the marks of these instances of self harm. The bites went deep, to the bone in some cases. Most of the fleet was concerned for her safety and rightly so but they were careful not to show it around her.

 _I-I-I'm dying again!_

Greeneville had become a different ship following her injury. Where she used to be a rather mild-mannered, even-tempered ham who loved attention, now she was quite the opposite. She was quick to anger and showed no hesitation in lashing out to her handlers on a regular basis. They had to wear full protective gear whenever they went to her berth. Even giving her something as simple as food had its set of dangers. You had to set the plate in front of her, not approaching within more than 5 feet or she'd attack, then run for it. She didn't want you hanging around. Though she tried to hide it, everyone knew that her jaw had been broken in the collision and didn't set right. As a result whenever she ate she left a puddle of half chewed food that would fall from her mouth. Her desire to eat alone was understandable and was respected on all fronts. But it didn't change the fact that the submarines' drastic change in attitude was cause for concern among the brass.

 _I'm going under. Drowning in you!_

Some said it would be better if she was scrapped. Others, drawing on her young age and the fact she'd received a life changing injury and was still trying to recover, said that therapy could help her. Greeneville had shown desire to return to active duty. She worked diligently in her physical and speech therapy lessons. No one brought up the substance abuse. After all, it was a common problem in the submarine force. Submarines didn't have it easy and their missions weighed heavily on them. The navy would turn a blind eye to the drugs being used by their most valued ships as long as its effects were minimized. Greeneville was beginning to push the envelope there. Supports for Greeneville convinced the brass that the submarine had a long road ahead of her and that in the future rehab sessions would be mandatory. For the time being though, the Lithium was something Greeneville needed to get through the grueling road of recovering. Thus it was decided that Greeneville's drug use be permitted for the time being. It turned out to be one of the worst decisions the navy could've made. A few days after this verdict, Greeneville got into a fierce row with her speech therapist and left. She didn't come back...

 _I'm falling forever._

 _I've got to break through._

 _I'm going under!_


	14. Lithium Addiction: Part 3

Part 3: Missing

PEARL HARBOR NAVAL BASE, JUNE 2002

 _Please, please forgive me. But I won't be home again._

Greeneville returned to her berth in a fuming state. _"How dare she!"_ She thought. _"How dare she presume to know the shit I have to go through to satisfy her desires."_ The submarine didn't bother tying up at her berth as she began to grab supplies and pack.

 _Maybe someday you'll look up and barely concious you'll say to no one "Isn't something missing"?_

She grabbed the bottle of Lithium and threw it against the other wall, knocking down the displayed open locket on the dock. The photo inside was of her and her instructor, back when Tennessee wasn't as such.

 _You won't cry for my absence I know. You forgot me long ago!  
_  
Greeneville pressed a fin to her forehead, the other gripping the dock as she tried to get her anger under control. Sighing, she picked the locket up, turning it over face up in her fin. She gazed at the picture for a few seconds before closing it shut, tossing it far out into the harbor.

 _Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant?! Isn't something missing, isn't someone missing me?_

"Even though I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now." Greeneville sighed as she grabbed the rest of her stuff and sailed out to sea. "Though I'd die to know you love me, I'm all alone." She looked behind her, taking one last look at the island of Oahu before heading out.

 _Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me._

Greeneville arrived at her destination, underwater sea mounts 50 miles southwest of Oahu. She moved silently through the water, her lopsided gate on the surface gone, to land easily on the summit of one. She slowly pulled out a few items that she'd packed.

 _Please please forgive me but I won't be home again._

Greeneville pulled out her bottle of Lithium and accompanying needle, eyes landing square on the metallic tip.

 _I know what you do to yourself._

She set it down for the time being, her bipolar disorder taking over as she screamed in a fit of rage.

 _I breathe deep and cry out!_

She rolled on her side, slamming her back against the hard rock. She launched all her torpedoes, ridding herself of them and watched as they floated harmlessly to the surface. Her 100 plus tomahawks were next. All left their cylos and floated to the surface as she gave them no order to arm themselves. Panting, and exhausted from her ordeal, Greeneville reached for the Lithium.

 _Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?_

Holding the needle tight in her left fin, her right filled it to the brim and she jabbed it straight into her heart. She repeated this until the 1/2 gallon bottle was empty. Seeing it was empty, she grew furious, slamming it hard against the mount, her fins pounding it repeatedly, her whole body convulsing in rage. Until the Lithium took affect, she gasped, quivered once more, and was still. All her muscles relaxing, her grip on the mount loosened and the currents pulled her unmoving body free.

 _And if I bleed, I'll bleed knowing you don't care. And if I sleep just to dream of you, I'll wake without you there. Isn't something missing? Isn't something..._

She lay suspended in the water, halfway between the surface and the bottom before gravity took over and she dropped to the seafloor. She struck it hard on her starboard side, a rib breaking blow that the numb submarine did not feel. She rolled several hundred feet before coming to rest at the bottom of a ravine, 900 feet down.

 _Even though I'm the sacrifice  
_  
 _You won't try for me, not now._

 _Though I'd die to know you love me._

 _I'm all alone._

 _Isn't something missing?_

 _Isn't someone missing me?_


	15. Not So Quiet After All

Pennsylvania's nostrils flared as she smelled another sub entering base. Her infrared vision allowed her to see quite easily through the night but even with that the newcomer was hard to spot.

"Who's there?" She growled warily, the hull plates on her back arching in preparation for an attack.

A second later she leaped at least 2 feet out of the water as something brushed against her.

The other sub laughed and Pennsylvania saw her green eyes flash briefly in the darkness, their special lens making them luminous.

"Kentucky, that was so not funny!" Pennsylvania growled.

Kentucky had rolled on her back, her laughter being heard throughout the base.

"Yes it was!" She gasped. "Oh my god the look on your face. You went from ready to launch a strike to 'oh my god, I'm gonna die' in 2.5 seconds! Priceless!"

Pennsylvania growled, having absolutely no patience for younger sibling's antics.

"Can you possibly be any louder?" She asked.

Kentucky giggled. "Sure I can!" She yowled in Pennsylvania's ear. "Over sized tube!"

"That's it!" Pennsylvania growled, and lunged at her sister.

Kentucky laughed and the two rolled around on the surface, biting at each others keels and sails.

"Ahem!" A voice growled. Both subs stopped as once as a third approached.

She was smaller than the big SSBN's but let no one question USS Virginia's authority as deputy of the fleet.

"Oh, hi Virginia!" Kentucky said. "Can you get this big lug off me?" She asked, glaring at Pennsylvania.

"Only if you shut up you noisy pup!" Pennsylvania retorted.

"Both of you will knock it off!" Virginia hissed.

"Yes ma'am." Kentucky replied eagerly, giving Pennsylvania a fierce kick with her propeller.

Pennsylvania yelped and leaped off her sister, glaring at her murderously.

Virginia bared her teeth at them both.

"You know what you're going to do now." She growled.

Pennsylvania groaned. "This is all your fault!" She said to Kentucky.

"No, it's all your fault!" Kentucky retorted. "You struck first!"

"Only because you scared me!" Pennsylvania retorted.

"I scared you?!" Kentucky mocked. "Aww, I'm sworry."

Pennsylvania bared her teeth.

"USS PENNSYLVANIA (SSBN-735), USS KENTUCKY (SSBN-737) ATTENTION!" Virginia shouted.

Both subs at once straightened up and saluted.

"Thank you." Virginia sighed. "USS Pennsylvania, you've got 1 week of sandblasting." She ordered.

Pennsylvania dipped her head. "1 week of sandblasting, aye ma'am." She replied.

"USS Kentucky, you've got 2 weeks of barnacle duty." Virginia ordered.

"Why do I get 2 weeks?!" Kentucky cried indignantly.

"Because, despite your amusing efforts, you did start this issue." Virginia replied, her voice dangerously low.

Kentucky got the hint and dipped her head. "2 weeks of barnacle duty, aye ma'am." She said glumly.

"Good, dismissed!" Virginia ordered and the two subs salute and raced off.

Virginia watched them go, shaking her head.

"Kids." She laughed to herself and sailed off to her own berth.

The following day Pennsylvania and Kentucky were up bright and early to began their punishment.

"This is still your fault." Pennsylvania growled.

"Well you escalated it!" Kentucky growled. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be doing this at all!"

"Well you pushed me into it with your sneaky ways!" Pennsylvania growled.

"I'm an SSBN! A submarine, of course I'm sneaky!" Kentucky shouted back.

Across the harbor, Virginia groaned and buried her head under the dock.

"Those two!" She wailed. "It's too early for this shit!"

When she woke up a few hours later, both submarines found their punishments doubled.

From then on, Pennsylvania and Kentucky were quiet as well, a submarine.


	16. The Rescue: Part 1

The Rescue: Based on a True Story Part 1

 _The following is a series based on the true events of the USS San Francisco (SSN-711) and it's collision with an undersea mountain in early January 2005. This is a fictional account and is no way a retelling of the actual events._

Most submarines preferred the deep ocean above everything else. It was their domain, like the ships that patrolled the world above the submarines patrolled the depths. A common belief was that no sub liked being on the surface with the sun beating down on them but if one bothered to travel to the submarine haven at Bangor in Washington State, they would find this assumption wrong. 4 submarines were docked beside each other, resting well above water and soaking up the weak winter rays that had somehow managed to penetrate the fog clouds that always covered the Puget Sound. All were boomers, fast nuclear submarines designed for long term patrols and the first to fire missiles should war break out. The eldest present was Virginia, lead of her class. She was one of the first modern "boomer" subs and had just returned from a long patrol. Beside her lay two knew Ohio class subs, Ohio herself and Kentucky. Both were sleeping and Virginia stifled a chuckle as they made low rumbling noises, a snore. So much for being quiet all the time.

Virginia yawned, resting her head back down on the dock and just as she was about to go to sleep again, the alarm sounded. She stifled a laugh as the noise caused Ohio and Kentucky to leap upright, smashing their heads together. Still slightly disorientated, the two along with Virginia, straightened up against their mooring lines and awaited command. "What's going on?" Ohio asked. "I don't know." Virginia replied. "We'll have to wait and see." Kentucky was in no mood for waiting. She shifted constantly, tugging furiously at her mooring lines, holding her to the dock and above water. "But I want to know now!" She whined. Virginia laughed. The young were always so impatient. "We'll know soon enough." She assured the younger submarine. Kentucky just "harrumphed" and ignored Virginia.

Answers weren't long in forthcoming. "Another boomer sub, San Francisco, has disappeared in the Pacific. We believe she was involved in an undersea collision." called the base commander. "Oh dear." Virginia whispered. Collisions were bad enough on the surface and she'd seen her fair share of those but under the water, any danger was increased 10fold if not more. "A search party is being organized and I need two submarines to join." Virginia instantly volunteered. She'd spent a majority of her life in the Pacific. She knew these waters like her own sail. Kentucky would go with her. Virginia wasn't particularly keen on conducting a search with the rambunctious youth. These things took time and she doubted that Kentucky had the patience to deal with that but San Francisco was more important. Reports indicated that she'd vanished in a treacherous stretch of the ocean. Depths ranged from 1500 feet to 3 miles, it was an underwater mountain range and if San Francisco's charts weren't updated, Virginia imaged her fellow boomer sub had fallen victim to one of these mounts. Time was of the essence. Every minute they wasted could be a minute closer that San Francisco slid off the sea mount to the crushing depths below. Virginia was determined to leave as fast as she could and with little if any, liabilities. She could stay underwater indefinitely. The only thing that limited her was her crew's food supply and currently there was a week's worth on board. Not nearly enough. Virginia made her decision and lowering her bow below the surface she wrapped her lines around the sharp edge of the dock and gave them a jerk. They were cut and she quickly bit through Kentucky's lines and the two submarines raced out of Bangor, leaving their crews behind at the dock. Clearing the jetty, they blew their ballast tanks and vanished below the surface. Virginia allowed herself a moment of contentment as she entered her natural element before she and Kentucky set off on the search for the stricken San Francisco.

...

San Francisco struggled to get her bearings in the dark depths of the Pacific Ocean. She tried to assess how badly hurt she was. Her jaw hurt like hell so it had to be broken and a stabbing pain in her side told her that she'd busted a few ribs as well. The acrid taste of blood filled her mouth and she realized she must've bit her tongue. She unclenched her teeth, hissing in pain from her jaw. Her keen eyes required no light to see. She had a wider range of vision than any other ship, able to see both inferred and ultraviolet. Currently, she was seeing in inferred and she could see the minefield she'd landed in. Not literally, that term was used very carefully around any ship. No, she'd landed in the midst of an undersea mountain range on the edge of the mid Pacific ridge. How foolish she'd been. It didn't take a geology genius to know there were mountains on the edge of the huge crack in the ocean floor that split the earth like the lines of a baseball. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! San Francisco slapped her bow harshly against the rock she lie on, angry at herself. She was rewarded by a pain so sharp that it made her vision blur and her head spin, threatening to send her into unconsciousness. The submarine gritted her teeth and managed to stay conscious but that didn't stop her from lunging forward, throwing up on the hard rock. The action aggravated her jaw and her ribs and losing the fight to remain coherent, San Francisco slipped into sleep once more.


	17. The Rescue: Part 2

The Rescue: Based on a True Story Part 2

 _The following is a series based on the true events of the USS San Francisco (SSN-711) and it's collision with an undersea mountain in early January 2005. This is a fictional account and is no way a retelling of the actual events._

San Francisco came to hours later. Her crew's air supply was failing as was hers. She had maybe 3 hours left at most. When a submarine was low on air, a survival mechanism kicked in, one that was beneficial to the crew more than to the sub. San Francisco's respiratory system could actually shut down as her skin absorbed the oxygen in the water around her. This bought her 10 hours and the crew almost 2 days worth of air. But it wouldn't last forever. San Francisco wanted to keep breathing for as long as possible to increase the chances of being found alive. It became harder and harder and harder. A harsh wheezing sound was heard from the sub and a rumbling became apparent in her hull as she struggled. Then, she took her last breath. Momentarily, San Francisco lost consciousness as her air supply was cut off, then restored through the water. She moaned. "Mmm, better." She murmured. Taking a few minutes to allow the oxygen to flow through her systems, San Francisco then turned her gaze upwards. "Someone, please help me..." She begged.

...

Virginia and Kentucky raced along, scowering the ocean floor. The latter was unusually silent but Virginia supposed Kentucky had her head in the game for once. "We'll find her." She assured her friend. Kentucky sighed. "I'm worried Virginia, what if we're too late." She said. "We won't be." Virginia said. "Not for at least another 10 hours." "How do you know that?" Kentucky asked. "Every submarine, you and me included, has a survival mechanism that if we run out of air, our respiratory system will shut down and we'll absorb oxygen through our skin. But it only works for 10 hours. Then we'll suffocate." Virginia said. "And you think that San Francisco is doing this?" Kentucky asked. Virginia nodded. "Don't worry, we'll find her." She said. Kentucky nodded, her eyes flickering back to the ocean floor. "Virginia! I think I see something!" She cried. Virginia followed her gaze, seeing an odd shape on a ledge over looking a deep ravine. "It's San Francisco, we found her!" Kentucky cried. Virginia nodded. "She's in quite the precarious position there." She murmured. "Come on, let's get down there!"

...

San Francisco saw Virginia and Kentucky above her but where she was at, she couldn't tell if they saw her or not. "Down in this hole, no one can find me." She murmured. "I need to get up higher." Digging her stern fins into the hard rock sediment she found a foothold, working her way up towards the crest of the ridge that she identified a good 500 feet away. Her side throbbed and with clenched teeth, the submarine worked her way, inch by inch, up the hill.

Virginia saw her. "What is she doing?" Kentucky wondered. "I don't know..." The elder submarine murmured and began to dive.

Tears fell from San Francisco's eyes and sweat poured off her hull, mingling in the water. It hurt so much! She had to stop, she had to give up but she couldn't. She had to be found if she wanted to survive. "Come on, almost there..." She panted. She could see the crest up ahead, a tantalizing 100 feet in front of her. "SAN FRANCISCO!" Virginia's voice filled her ears and San Francisco stopped, raising her head upwards to see the older submarine dive gracefully down towards her. Big mistake. San Francisco's fragile hold slipped and she began sliding back down the hill, towards the ravine. San Francisco slid halfway over the edge before she came to a halt, held in place by a small mound of rocks. She rocked dangerously. "San, hold on!" Virginia cried. "Believe me, that's my only priority right now!" San Francisco called back, her eyes flickering to the blackness of the ravine. Even her keen eyesight couldn't fully penetrate it. _"God that must go down another 2 miles. If I fall into that, I'm as good as dead!"_ She thought and swallowed hard. Underneath her, she felt the rocks quiver and her hull creaked and groaned. "Virginia, hurry!" She begged. Virginia circled around above her, searching for a place to set down on the rocks without knocking San Francisco off her perch. San Francisco whimpered. "Virginia, help me!" She sobbed. "Frisco, listen. Do not move, I'm gonna get you out of here." Virginia tried to soothe her. But San Francisco was too frightened to listen to reason and she tried to pull herself over the ledge. The rocks rumbled again. "Don't move!" Virginia growled. The movement only further caused the rocks to rumble and some began to give way. San Francisco really struggled now. The weakened ledge couldn't take her weight anymore and the whole thing began to crumble into the ravine.

In a desperate move, Virginia reached out to pull San Francisco to safety but the rocks under her gave way and the two submarines plummeted into the ravine below. "VIRGINIA!" Kentucky cried but she could do nothing as her two friends vanished into the darkness.


	18. The Rescue: Part 3

The Rescue: Based on a True Story Part 3

 _The following is a series based on the true events of the USS San Francisco (SSN-711) and it's collision with an undersea mountain in early January 2005. This is a fictional account and is no way a retelling of the actual events._

Kentucky gasped as she saw her friends disappear into the canyon. As the dust began to settle, she cried "VIRGINIA, VIRGNINIA CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" A faint reply was heard over her radio. "I can hear you Kentucky." Virginia replied. "Are you alright? Is San Francisco alright?" Kentucky asked worriedly. "We're both alive." Virginia reported. "But not uninjured. I think I've busted some ribs but San Francisco's worse. She's coughing up blood." "Oh no..." Kentucky whispered. "I need you to run to Pearl and get help." Virginia ordered. "I can't just leave you!" Kentucky cried. "I'll be fine. I'll see if I can find a way out of this crack but in the meantime, you work out a rescue plan to get us to the surface." Virginia said. Kentucky hesitated. "That was an order USS Kentucky!" Virginia growled, unmistakable authority in her voice. "Very well, Virginia. I'll be back as soon as I can." Kentucky replied. "Please hurry." Virginia begged as Kentucky raced off as fast as her propeller would thrust her through the water.

...

Virginia sighed. She knew the chances of escape were next to none. She and San Francisco would die here but at least Kentucky would be safe. "Godspeed kid." Virginia whispered, a tear in her eye. She turned her attention back to San Francisco. The younger submarine had stopped throwing up blood but she was now lying on her side, shivering. Virginia's keen eyes could detect what one would think wouldn't be visible in water. Sweat shimmered along the entire length of her hull. "Oh, San Francisco..." She whispered. San Francisco gave a pathetic little whimper as Virginia began licking away the blood around her mouth. That's when she noticed a large cut. Nudging San Francisco's head back gently she found that the submarine's chest had been split wide open during the fall down here. "Oh..." Virginia gasped. San Francisco opened one eye. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?" She asked. "No, no you're not gonna die. It isn't that serious." Virginia lied. San Francisco gave her friend a sad smile. "San Francisco please, try to hold on. Kentucky's gone to get help." Virginia begged. "No, you just sent her away because you know that there's no way out of here." San Francisco murmured, her eyes closing. Virginia nudged her. "Hey, stay awake!" She growled. San Francisco whimpered. "You have to stay awake if you want to live." Virginia hissed. "What if I don't want to live." San Francisco murmured. "Don't say that! You do want to live, and you will live!" Virginia growled. "Don't assume you know what I want. So much pain... so much suffering. Just let me die, I want to die. I want it to end!" San Francisco wailed. "Shh, shh. It will end. Trust me it will." Virginia whispered. "Just a few more hours, just a few more hours and we'll be out of here." San Francisco's eyes closed again but she didn't fall asleep. Her sobs told Virginia she was crying. Virginia circled around her. "Shh, shh..." She whispered, cradling the Los Angeles-class against her.

Her eyes fell on something sparkly next to her. Stretching her bow, she picked it up in her teeth and eyed it. Her vision switched from infrared to ultraviolet and immediately the object gave off a red glow. "It's a diamond. A blue diamond..." She whispered. "A what?" San Francisco asked as she raised her head. Virginia held the crystal out to her. "What, incredible..." She whispered. More sparkles caught Virginia's eye and she could see the walls of the canyon covered in jewels of every kind, from diamonds to pearls to rubies and emeralds. "Incredible..." San Francisco whispered. "This is, wow..." Virginia agreed. Another glint, this less pronounced told her there was gold and silver lining the walls as well. "Lava must run through here. Crystals can only be found in areas of intense geological activity." Virginia whispered. San Francisco rolled on her keel. "This place, does it have a name?" She asked. "It does now, Gem Valley." Virginia replied. San Francisco rolled her eyes. "Too original." She said. "Oh and you have a better name I suppose?" Virginia growled. "Aye, Canyon of Hidden Light." San Francisco replied. "It can't be so obvious. We will speak of this to no one." She growled. "Why not?" Virginia asked. "Think Virginia, is the lack of oxygen getting to you as well?" San Francisco snapped. Virginia shrugged. "Possibly, why?" She asked. "We can't tell anyone because man will send drills down here, completely destroy this place, not to mention the creatures that live above." San Francisco replied. "We tell no one." "We're the silent service, that shouldn't be a problem." Virginia agreed.

San Francisco groaned, her head drooping. Virginia nuzzled her. "Virginia, I-I..." The Los Angeles' class words were drowned by blood as she lunged forward again. "Hey steady now." Virginia murmured. San Francisco moaned. "Virginia, I-I can't hold on much longer." She gasped. "Of course you can!" Virginia replied. "No, I can't. I-I have 20 minutes left." San Francisco replied. "I'll give you some of my air." Virginia whimpered. "No! No, save it. You have to get out of here." San Francisco replied. "Not without you. Kentucky should be on her way back. Just hold on, conserve your oxygen." Virginia ordered. San Francisco rested her head back down on the rocks, her eyes closing. Her teeth were bared up to the gum line from the pain. Virginia whimpered and nudged her. San Francisco twitched but that was all the response she got. The younger submarine was dying.

Then a most welcome sound reached Virginia's ears. It was Kentucky and she'd brought surface help if Virginia had interpreted the sound of the propellers right. Cautiously the young sub approached the edge of the canyon. "Virginia, are you there?!" She called. It took a moment for the sub to find her voice but she replied strongly "Yes, I'm alive. We both are but you better hurry. San Francisco has less than 10 minutes of air left." "Oh sweet Jesus!" Kentucky swore. "Arleigh Burke will lower a net down to you. Have San Francisco crawl into it as best she can. Can you climb out on your own?" She asked. "I think so, yes." Virginia replied. "Alright, I'm lowering the net down now. Help me guide it down to you." Kentucky called. "Roger!" Virginia replied.

Kentucky dropped the net down. "A bit more to the right!" Virginia called as the net came perilously close to the jewels. She did not want Kentucky to know about this place. "Straighten out, good, good a little more. Got it!" Virginia cried as the net landed next to her. "San Francisco, I need you to crawl in there." She ordered her fellow sub. "Cant... move..." San Francisco gasped. "You have to. Come on, Arleigh will take you to the surface and you can have all the oxygen you want." Virginia replied. She nudged the submarine. "You can do it, I know you can." She whispered. Using the last of her strength, San Francisco dragged herself across the rocks and flopped into the net, collapsing inside. "Alright, we're good!" Virginia called. Kentucky gave the signal and Arleigh ordered the hoist. Virginia engaged her engines and followed to ensure there were no problems.

Halfway up, there was trouble. San Francisco stiffened and began to struggle, little bubbles escaping her closed mouth. "She's run out of air..." Virginia realized. "Hurry Arleigh, hurry!" She begged the destroyer. "I'm going as fast as I can!" The destroyer huffed. San Francisco's eyes were rolling around in her head. "Just a few more seconds San Francisco, you can do this." Virginia encouraged her. At last, the submarine breached but she lacked any strength to lift her head up above the waves. Virginia came in underneath her and lifted her head for her. A shudder went through the sub as she breathed in a deep, shattering breath. The blood pooled around her from the wound in her bow and in her chest. "Oh, my..." Arleigh whispered. "We have to get her to Pearl, stat!" Virginia growled. She licked San Francisco between the eyes. "It's gonna be alright." She whispered. San Francisco looked at her and whispered her thanks, well tried to. Blood loss overcame her and she fell unconscious, turning turtle. "SAN FRANCISCO!" Virginia wailed. She nudged her friend fiercely. "No, no. Don't die on me now please!" She begged. Tears fell from her eyes as Virginia broke down on the motionless body of her friend. Arleigh came up, gently nudging Virginia away from San Francisco. "We have to get her to Pearl within a few hours or she will die." She said. She reached down and picked San Francisco up around the middle, nudging her up and over her bow. She rested there, keel up, her jaws hanging open with water dripping out of her mouth and her tongue hanging to one side. Her eyelids were open but only the whites of her eyes could be seen. "We have to hurry!" Arleigh growled and set a course for Pearl. Virginia had to wonder if San Francisco would ever wake again. "Please don't die." She whispered. "We need you!"


	19. The Rescue: Part 4 (final part)

The Rescue: Based on a True Story Part 4

 _The following is a series based on the true events of the USS San Francisco (SSN-711) and it's collision with an undersea mountain in early January 2005. This is a fictional account and is no way a retelling of the actual events._

They entered Pearl Harbor 4 hours later. Virginia couldn't tell if San Francisco was still alive, or even breathing for that matter. The hospital ship Mercy was quick to respond. She shoved her way through the crowd of ships, most of them submarines. "Step aside!" She growled as Arleigh lowered San Francisco down in front of her. "Virginia, can you help me." She asked. Virginia nodded slowly and approached. Patching this wound would be a two ship job. Arleigh kept the bystanders at bay but they were all eagerly crowding in around Mercy, making her job very difficult. Suddenly a voice rang out "BACK OFF THE LOT OF YA!" The ships dispersed quickly. No surprise, the ship that called out was Missouri, the fleet leader since 1948. Despite her advancing age, and despite the fact that she was a museum ship, she did not resign like Constitution had. She was still strong and could still lead the fleet well though she relied on her long standing deputy, the carrier Enterprise (CVN-65) to command a majority of the offshore assignments. The battleship's gaze swept the gathered ships angrily and they retreated, cowering. "Thank you Missouri!" Arleigh said. "Of course." Missouri replied, dipping her head. "How bad is it?" She asked Mercy. The hospital ship didn't even pause in her work as she replied "It's bad. San Francisco's broken her jaw in three places and her nasal cavity is bent in on itself. She's got 9 busted ribs, 3 of them completely shattered but the worst wound is her chest." "What happened there?" Missouri asked worriedly. "Cracked sternum, a punctured lung and an imploded spleen. She's a mess." Mercy replied. "Will she die?" Virginia whimpered. Arleigh pressed her muzzle gently to her side. "I don't know." Mercy sighed. She looked closely at the submarine. "I'll be checking your wounds next." She said. "That isn't necessary, I'm fine." Virginia replied. Mercy's eyes took on a dangerous look. "You're fine, if I say you are fine." She hissed quietly. Virginia gulped and nodded. Bowfin snickered. "It's best not to argue with her." The old submarine said. "I've noticed." Virginia muttered dryly. She shut her mouth and kept at her work.

By nightfall, San Francisco was resting relatively comfortably at her berth. Mercy was docked nearby to keep a close eye on her and Virginia took a spot alongside her injured friend. Mercy had told her that San Francisco had suffered a concussion when she hit the ocean floor. It was too early to tell if she needed an operation or not. The next 12 hours would tell. San Francisco slept soundly through the night, not even stirring once. When Virginia woke she was concerned to see her friend still asleep. What's more, San Francisco gleamed with sweat and when Virginia felt her, she was clammy with fever. "Mercy!" She cried. The hospital ship looked at San Francisco and sighed. "I have no choice now, I have to operate." She said. She scooped up the large Los Angeles class with ease and carried her to the medical docks. San Francisco underwent a 16 hour surgery as Eclipse drilled into her skull in the hopes of relieving the pressure on her brain. As it turns out, an artery had been pinched shut by impact on the ocean floor and like a kink in a hose, was unable to pump blood through her brain. Virginia was forced to wait, pacing back and forth the whole time. Missouri watched her, a sympathetic look in her eyes. Virginia was worried sick over her dear friend. She'd risked so much for her, would it all be for nothing?

At last, Mercy appeared, still covered in blood and fluid from the surgery. "How is she?" Virginia whimpered. "The pressure's been relieved. She should wake up in a few hours." Mercy replied. "So she's gonna be okay!" Virginia cried. "I didn't say that. But she's on the mend, I will say that for sure." Mercy said. "Thank you! Oh thank you, thank you!" Virginia cried and embracing Mercy she raced away. Missouri chuckled. "She's a rambunctious little thing. Reminds me of my youth." She said. Mercy sent her leader a questioning look. "Getting nostalgic are you Mo?" She asked. Missouri shrugged. "At my age, why wouldn't I be." She replied. Mercy smiled and nuzzled her. "You should rest." She said. "I haven't seen you sleep once since Virginia got here." "How could I, when San Francisco might die? I've had too many good ships die on me while I was asleep." Missouri sighed. "And you think staying awake would keep them alive?" Mercy growled. "Sleep, now." She hissed. "Okay, okay!" Missouri replied, rolling her eyes. She curled up against her dock. "Are you going anywhere?" She asked. Mercy chuckled. "Want me to stay do ya?" She asked. Missouri nodded. Mercy smiled and gave Missouri a gentle lick between the ears. "Alright." She replied. Since Missouri arrived here in Pearl 8 years prior, Mercy had grown quite close to her leader. She'd known her from her early days back in Bremerton and while she thought the battleship was a competent leader, they weren't friends. Now, they were closer than that. If there was anything that bothered Missouri, concerned her Mercy would be the first ship she'd ask and Mercy did likewise. The hospital ship loved Missouri with all her heart and she hoped that one day, the battleship would realize the same about her. But for now, she was content to care for Missouri's needs. Anything that made her happy. When Enterprise entered port she found Missouri and Mercy asleep together and she smiled. While she and the battleship were good friends, they didn't quite share the same bond that Missouri had with Mercy and Enterprise respected that. She didn't envy the hospital ship. She led a good life as the fleet's deputy and was content with that. Cooing quietly at the cute sight, the carrier sailed off to her own berth for the night.

...

Virginia approached San Francisco's berth warily, unsure of what she would find. Would her friend be awake? Would she be hooked up to a gazillion different machines? San Francisco turned out to have an IV drip in place but that was really the only needle she had in her. The heart machine produced a steady beep and Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. She was stable at least. Virginia nuzzled her. "When you wake up, I'll be here." She whispered. She planted a kiss on the submarine's cheek and rested her head down beside her, closing her eyes.

A nudge woke her. "Mmm, five more minutes captain..." Virginia mumbled. A familiar chuckle was heard and Virginia was nudged again. Grumbling dreadfully, Virginia yawned and opened her eyes, finding a pair of bright blue ones inches from hers. "San Francisco!" She squealed happily, her crankiness forgotten as she tackled her friend, licking her all over. San Francisco laughed. "Okay, easy Virginia. Ouch!" She hissed. Upon her exclamation of pain, Virginia backed off. "I'm sorry." She said. San Francisco shifted to look at her better. "It's alright." She replied, reaching forward to give her a gentle nuzzle. Virginia returned it eagerly. "How long was I out?" San Francisco asked. "Almost 3 days." Virginia replied. "3 days?!" San Francisco repeated incredulously. "Yeah, Mercy said you had a concussion so she had to operate." Virginia said. "So that's why my head feels lopsided." San Francisco giggled, rolling it limply to one side and sticking her tongue out for emphasis. Virginia laughed. "You never did lose your sense of humor." She said. San Francisco smiled. "That's just how I roll sista!" She said. Virginia laughed. "I'm so glad you're alright." She said. "That makes too of us." San Francisco agreed. "Promise me something." Virginia said. "Anything." San Francisco replied. "Don't ever run with outdated charts again!" Virginia growled. San Francisco laughed. "Will do." She agreed.

...

DECEMBER 2012

By the end of February 2005, San Francisco had recovered enough to leave the medical berths and sail back to Bangor with Virginia and Kentucky. Upon arrival, Virginia was promoted to the rank of battleship. She was now qualified for a leadership position within the navy itself, not just the silent service.

Now, she and San Francisco sailed to Pearl Harbor on orders from Missouri. A fleet meeting was being held and her presence was required. Virginia wondered why. She held the rank of battleship sure, but she was still a submarine, the lowest of the low. All the surface ships looked down on her, no puns intended.

As Virginia sailed in, Enterprise greeted her. "You'll stick with me throughout the ceremony." She said. "What ceremony?" Virginia asked. Enterprise gave a small smile. "You'll see." She replied. Virginia followed her deputy to the center of the gathered ships where Missouri was waiting. She nodded to Virginia. "Are we ready then?" She asked Enterprise. The carrier nodded. "Yes Missouri, everyone's assembled." She said. "Very well then." Missouri replied and raised her voice to address the gathered ships. "ALL SHIPS GATHERED, HEAR ME NOW!" Everyone quieted. Missouri stood proud and strong as she spoke to her fleet. "Today we present a special ceremony, one that I have not had the privilege of performing since 1960. It is a time of triumph and of tragedy, as the old relinquish their posts and the new do their best to fill the space left by their departure." Missouri looked at Enterprise and the carrier moved forward. "USS Enterprise, has served as my deputy since her commissioning. When this nation was in need of leadership, she answered the call and performed above and beyond the line of duty. For 52 years she has served at my side and I have since come to know her as a grand deputy, a confident and most importantly, a friend. It is with great sadness that I have her leave our ranks today. Upon completion of this ceremony, she will sail to Norfolk to be decommissioned. Now I must raise a new question. Who will take her place? Who is worthy to rise up and fulfill the role of deputy of the United States Navy? The answer, no one. No one is worthy to replace Enterprise. She is irreplaceable. Her mark upon this fleet cannot be removed, it cannot be overshadowed and it cannot be matched. The best I can hope for, is for the ship I've chosen to do her upmost to follow the legacy USS Enterprise leaves behind for us today. This ship has experience in a different aspect than most of us. And thus some would think her to be an inadequate choice. But I tell you now, nothing could be further from the truth. Time and again she has been presented with challenges and not just overcome but excelled in everyway. She has risen higher in stature than any other ship before her. So it is with great honor that I present to you you're new deputy, USS Virginia!"

Everyone turned to stare at Virginia as she slowly came forward alongside Missouri, opposite of Enterprise. "Fleet, attention!" Missouri called. Virginia and Enterprise faced each other and Virginia raised her bow in salute, Enterprise followed. "I relieve you, USS Enterprise, of your duties as deputy of the fleet." She said. "I stand relieved, carry on USS Virginia." Enterprise replied. "Carry on USS Enterprise, aye." Virginia said. Enterprise cut the salute and Virginia followed. The fleet erupted in cheering and Virginia couldn't hold it back anymore. Losing all composure she started to cry. Tears of happiness fell down her cheeks and a huge grin was permanently etched into her bow. Missouri pressed her prow to hers. "Missouri, I-I don't know what to say. Deputy..." She whispered. "You've earned it." Missouri replied. She straightened up and gave the order to fallout. The fleet dispersed but Virginia didn't go anywhere. She hung by Missouri's side and watched as Enterprise sailed away, outlined by the striking sunset. She heard a quiet sobbing and looked to see tears falling from Missouri's eyes. Her teeth were clenched as she struggled to keep from breaking down completely. She would no doubt do so later in her berth tonight and Virginia intended to be there for her. "Farewell Enterprise, I will see you in the stars one day." Missouri whispered. Virginia swallowed hard as she realized this was the last time she'd ever see the carrier. Enterprise would not become a museum as many had hoped, she would be decommissioned, stripped of her fittings and scrapped. "I won't be just a deputy. I will bear your legacy to the future generations of this fleet. You will always live on." Virginia promised.


	20. The Trouble With Tridents

Nebraska rolled around at her berth, trying in vain to find someplace comfortable to sleep.

She usually just rolled over and slept below the water but right now any kind of pressure on her back just hurt like hell.

"Ugh!" She grumbled.

After another hour of this she just gave up.

"This is pointless!" She cried. "I'm never gonna get any sleep like this!"

She resolved to speak to one of the technicians, the equivalent of a ship's doctor, in the morning. She knew something was wrong but she wasn't sure what.

Dawn came early as it was summer and the exhausted Nebraska moaned as the light hit her, burying her bow under the dock.

San Fransisco approached her.

"What's the matter, Nen?" She asked.

"Don't call me that!" Nebraska grumbled.

"Don't be like that miss grouchy!" San Fransisco teased.

"I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Of course I'm grouchy!" Nebraska hissed.

"Geeze sorry. What's wrong?" San Fransisco asked.

If there was one thing Nebraska loved, it was her beauty sleep and when she didn't get it, well the fleet knew all about it pretty quick.

"My back's hurting." Nebraska replied, emerging from underneath the dock.

"So much so you couldn't relax at all?" San Fransisco asked.

"Damn, you better see a technician."

"That's exactly what I'm going to do." Nebraska sighed.

The technician came by later that afternoon.

"Now I'm going to feel your top deck here. You tell me where it hurts alright." He asked.

Nebraska nodded and he stepped aboard.

Starting just behind her head, he worked his way down the center of her back.

Nebraska remained still until he reached one of the hatch coverings on the port side, then she yelped.

"Okay, that hurts!" She gasped.

"You sure, this is it?" He asked.

"Positive." She groaned.

"Alright, let me get this hatch covering of." He said.

She whimpered in pain as she she lifted it up, revealing the Trident missile underneath.

"Any better yet?" The man asked, hoping that it was just a pressure issue and that removing the hatch would relieve the problem.

Unfortunately, Nebraska shook her head. "No. It still hurts." She whimpered.

The man sighed. "I'm out of my league here. I can't touch that so let me call in someone who's qualified." He said.

"Fine." Nebraska sighed.

He stepped off onto the dock and pulled out his phone, quickly dialing a number.

To vent her frustrations, Nebraska slammed her side against the pier.

"OUCH!" She cried dancing around. "Noisy cavitating props that hurt!"

"What did?" The man asked, watching her.

"I HATE TRIDENTS!" Nebraska roared, twisting her head around to get at the blue missile now exposed. "Old, useless, unreliable warhead! It's what's hurting me, I know it!"

"Now, now calm down!" The man began.

Nebraska rounded on him. "DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" She snapped, slamming her head down on the dock only to back away with another yelp.

"Get this thing out!" She cried.

"Nebraska, I can't. That stuff's classified above my level..." The man tried again.

This only angered Nebraska more. "DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT CLASSIFIED. NO ONE HAS TO KNOW. JUST GET THIS FUCKING WARHEAD OFF MY BACK!"

The man through his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He said.

Nebraska pulled back up alongside the pier and the man climbed into the hatch, examining the missile.

"Looks like it's jammed on something." He said. "If you were forced to fire that, it would likely tear this whole hatch out."

"Just get it out." Nebraska half sighed, half begged.

"Alright but I warn you, this will hurt." The man said and took a hammer to the spot where the missile had jammed on an odd piece of metal.

"OUCH!" Nebraska cried. "Flipping whale blubber!"

The man stifled a laugh and the sub's choice of vocabulary but he kept his focus on the task at hand.

"Please do not go off on me." The man murmured.

"It won't." Nebraska sighed. "But I might make it do so if you don't get it out of me right now!"

"Okay, okay. I"m trying sheesh." He grumbled.

The senior technician arrived then.

"Mike, what the hell are you doing? You can't handle one of those." The man said.

"Well she insisted." Mike grumbled.

"Get down there and help him Peter." Nebraska growled.

"Demanding as ever." Peter sighed and joined Mike.

Getting some help from a few others, they managed to hook a crane to the 65 ton missile and try and pull it out.

For a few seconds it seemed not even that would work but then, clang! The missile came unlodged and Nebraska squealed in pain.

"OOOOWWWWWWWW!" She wailed, her voice carrying across the harbor.

Even Virginia looked up in surprise.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Damn it!" Nebraska hissed as inch by inch the missile was hauled out.

As soon as it was free, Nebraska closed the hatch covering and rolled on her side. "Ugh, never again. Never, ever, ever!" She said.

"Tridents are nothing but trouble. You should carry tomahawks instead." Virginia said, trying hard to hide her amusement.

"Anything but the Tridents!" Nebraska groaned.


	21. Classified Dangers

JOHN C. STENNIS CARRIER GROUP, LAURENTIAN ABYSSAL PLAIN, 2009

As a Los Angeles-class submarine, USS Topeka had been involved with many classified operations. Her class and she had served their nation well. What she didn't expect though was an operation like this one. It involved high surveillance which she enjoyed, but it was the surveillance of the uninteresting kind. The "sitting around and waiting for something to happen" type of surveillance. It was what her human masters called a "desk job".

"How much longer?" She groaned to Arleigh.

Roosevelt's battle group was in the Gulf of Aden, readying for a possible strike. They lacked a submarine. Why couldn't she go and join in the action?

The fleet healer resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the sub's question. Topeka had been whining since she got here. The little submarine just couldn't shut her mouth but then again, she was ADHD. A long, dull assignment like this one was not her forte. But orders were orders. That still didn't protect command for the chewing out they would get when she returned to Cairo. Shame on them for sticking her with such a whiny ship! In fact the whole task force was just about sick of Topeka's complaining.

"If you don't like it, then leave!" Stennis snorted.

"If I do that though, I'll be punished!" Topeka replied.

"Then stop your whining and do your job." Stennis sighed, summoning her patience from somewhere.

"I am doing my job and complaining as I do it. I can multitask." Topeka snarked back.

The carrier growled, losing patience with her sub.

"Enough." Arleigh hissed. "Stennis, ignore her. She's just anxious and trying to calm her nerves. Topeka, remember the techniques I gave you."

"Okay, okay." Topeka sighed, taking deep breaths.

"Stennis ma'am, my sonar's picking up five unidentified contacts. Diving fast." Another destroyer, Kidd, called from the far side of the group.

"Topeka, investigate it." Stennis ordered.

"Aye, aye ma'am." Topeka dove. Once underwater she leveled out and immediately began pinging away. "Damn, I've never known something to dive that deep that fast." She said.

"What's happening?" Stennis questioned.

"They're diving to the site and there's no DRV's there." Topeka replied.

"Then people we've got a problem." Stennis said. "Topeka, keep me informed."

"Will do." The sub signed off the radio for now, she had more important things to take care of.

Her sonar beeped as the contacts started rising, only something was different. "Stennis, I'm reading six contacts now. I repeat, six contacts and they're rising fast. Get a bird in the air to intercept."

A Hawkeye was launched from Stennis' flight deck. Two Hornets waited in the catapults when the contact reached Topeka. The submarine tried frantically to turn away but a collision was imminent. The "thing" collided with her port quarter, forcing her stern to broach as it cleared the sea and made for the upper atmosphere. The Hawkeye could not keep up.

Blood coated the water and Arleigh was quick to respond. She didn't wait for Stennis' order, she rushed over. Topeka had blown her ballast and now lie even on the surface. A huge gash graced her port quarter, her aft fin mangled, bone exposed and her propeller bent beyond repair. She was shaking from the shock.

"Topeka, Topeka snap out of it! Look at me!" Arleigh roared.

The submarine's eyes rolled around in her head as she worked to focus on the healer.

"Damn you, focus!" Arleigh growled. "Don't you dare die on me." _Don't you dare leave me..._

Topeka's fins slapped harmlessly against the destroyer's sides as she positioned herself above the submarine. A harsh gurgling noise issued from her throat. "H-help me..." She rasped. "Arleigh, p-please."

Arleigh took a deep breath. "Tell me, where does it hurt?" She asked.

"D-doesn't hurt. Feel nothing..." Topeka's head fell against Arleigh's hull as she went limp.

Arleigh frantically felt for a pulse. "Topeka, Topeka wake up please!" She wailed. She swore when she felt none. "Stennis, I need a defibrillator, now!" She shouted.

The carrier tossed one to her. "Work quickly, Arleigh." She growled. "I have to get the task force out of here."

The healer slammed the device to Topeka's chest at least 6 times before she got a response. The sub's heart was erratic and Arleigh had to monitor it closely. She resorted to carrying Topeka on her back as they sailed for home. It was en route that she got word of Roosevelt. It was the last thing she needed to hear.

"There were a good 1800 people on that ship." She whispered.

Stennis looked at her. "There was nothing you could have done." She replied. Her voice was tight and Arleigh remembered Roosevelt was a Nimitz-class, her sister.

"I'm sorry." Arleigh bowed her head.

"They'll pay." Stennis growled. "I will make them pay!"

Arleigh turned her focus back to Topeka. The submarine was stable, for now at least. Though whether she would regain consciousness or not remained to be seen. "Come back to us Topeka. Wherever you are, please come back." Arleigh whispered. She sent her prayer to the Ancients, the stars holding a new meaning for her after the events of the last 2 years. She could only hope that whatever was up there, heeded her plea.

...

Topeka woke as the carrier group was diverted to the Egyptian coast. "Wha-where am I?" She groaned.

"Safe, for now." Arleigh replied, licking her. "Your heart completely stopped at one point. I was afraid I couldn't get it started again and once I did, it easily could've stopped."

"What's the damage doc?" Topeka asked.

"Don't call me doc." Arleigh sighed. "Ratchet's the doc. I'm the healer."

Topeka giggled. "Don't believe you're supposed to say that out loud." She said.

"Oh hush you! We all know what's going on." Arleigh growled though secretly she was glad the submarine was teasing her. It meant she was feeling better. "You have a mangled fin, a bent propeller, and a 90 foot gash on your port quarter. It sliced you open from your kidneys to your stomach."

Topeka nodded. "How long until I can get back to work?" She asked.

"I don't know yet." Arleigh replied. "Months at least. What you need is a drydock."

Topeka sighed. "No point arguing that is there." She asked. She shifted against the healer, resting at her side.

Arleigh tried to hide her worry at the sub's complacent attitude. Topeka must have been hurting bad if she was so agreeable.

Stennis swore, drawing the pair's attention. "What's going on?" Arleigh asked.

"Special Agent requesting the use of a rail gun. One of the NBE's is remodeling a pyramid. Apparently within that pyramid is a machine capable of destroying our sun!" Stennis replied.

"Well don't wait for me, do it now!" Arleigh growled. No more sun?! That would completely destroy all life on earth. Not on her watch!

Her sister ship, USS Kidd, readied her weapon. "Fire in the hole." She said and in a charge of electricity the rail gun launched its projectile.

The fleet was rewarded a few seconds later as an explosion hit the top of the pyramid, knocking the NBE clear.

"YES!" Arleigh cheered. Topeka managed a grin and high finned the healer as well.

"I love the smell of powder in the morning!" She said and Arleigh hugged her.

"Topeka, I love you." She whispered. There, she finally said what she'd always wanted to say.

The submarine's breath hitched and she stiffened. For a moment, Arleigh wondered if she'd pushed too far. Then Topeka snuggled her. "I love you too, you little bitch!"


	22. A Special Presentation: Hyperion's War

_In a world where some ships are not as they seem, Hyperion must race to save her mate as global catastrophes threaten to destroy life._

"Normal"

 _"Comm"_

 **Black Ladies Chronicles Presents:**

 **Magma Volcanic Disaster: Hyperion's War**

Hyperion was new to the position of flagship. Since Virginia had moved up to fleet deputy, she'd been chosen to lead the submarine force. It was a big job, one that she was still getting used to.

"You look like your head's going to explode." Hyperion turned to see Kilauea coming towards her, her dark amber eyes thoughtful. "And you look as insightful as always." Hyperion chuckled. She nodded to the patch on her friend's fin. "Vent bothering you?" She asked. "Nothing you don't already know." Kilauea smirked. "So, what's on your mind?" She asked. Hyperion shot her a look. "You never give up do you?" She said. Kilauea shook her head. "Ugh, well its just I wonder how Virginia did it!" Hyperion grumbled. "New position's bothering you. Virginia complained about the same thing." Kilauea said. "Leadership is a difficult thing. You have to grow into it, adapt." "But I don't feel like I am." Hyperion sighed. "I've got Reprisal up my stern nonstop. Kentucky's asking for me to push congress into building more Ohio's. Need I say more?" "I think I get the picture." Kilauea said. "Of course you would. You've heard it over and over again since this navy was founded." Hyperion grumbled. "Oh far beyond that." Kilauea winked. "Rub it in why don't you." Hyperion sniffed. "Aww, don't be like that." Kilauea nuzzled her. "I'm just poking fun." "I know." Hyperion licked her. "Hmm, you're warm." She said. "When am I not?" Kilauea reminded her. "Good point." Hyperion chuckled. "Come on, we should get back." Kilauea pouted. "And here I was hoping you'd have something more interesting to offer." She whined. "Not here, later." Hyperion growled as the older sub whined her protest.

The pair docked at Pearl and Kilauea wasted no time getting into Hyperion. She shoved the other sub against the dock, tongue probing deep into her mouth. Hyperion moaned. "Gently, Kia." She mumbled. "I know your limits, darling." Kilauea purred as she moved her fins down Hyperion's rib cage. Hyperion shuddered, letting her mate set her down on her back. With what she knew had to be tremendous restraint, Kilauea lightly held her head as she worked her slit. Hyperion's eyes slipped closed as pleasure built within her. But just before climax, Kilauea's weight vanished. Curious as to why her mate retreated, she opened her eyes, seeing Kilauea leaning against the far side of the berth, panting. She righted herself. "Kia, what's wrong?" She asked. "I-I don't know... STAY BACK!" She roared when Hyperion made to approach. The younger submarine stared at her mate. They'd agreed when they first chose to mate that Kilauea would work with Hyperion's disadvantage as she was mortal, Kilauea was not. Not in the same since anyway. Kilauea agreed to be careful and Hyperion likewise agreed to respect her mate's space if she felt it necessary. But Hyperion also knew that right now, Kilauea would not have backed off, nor would ever back off like she did, unless she was certain that something was wrong or was about to go wrong. "Kia?" Hyperion began again, keeping her distance. Kilauea raised her head, amber eyes dark. "I don't know what that was, but I really didn't like the feeling I got just now." She said. "What kind of feeling?" Hyperion asked. "I don't know. Something shifted and I don't like it." Kilauea replied. Hyperion relented, her mate would tell her more if she knew.

They chose to forgo sex and settled in for the night. Kilauea took the shore side, Hyperion the sea. That way, if anything went wrong during the night, Hyperion could escape. It turned out that arrangement would be necessary.

Sometime around 3 in the morning, Kilauea's hull started to sweat. The increase in heat woke Hyperion who smartly moved clear of her mate. Seconds later, Kilauea's hull ruptured in several places, producing fountains of blood. The water turned red with it. This was more than just a vent, this was a full on eruption. "Help!" Hyperion wailed. "Someone help me!"

Arleigh Burke came racing in. "Hyperion? What's the matter?" She asked. "It's Kia. I don't know what went wrong. It's sudden and I..." The sub was hyperventilating. "Easy, easy." The destroyer licked her. "Is she conscious?" "I don't know." Hyperion answered. "Kia?" A groan was her response as Kilauea's eyelids flickered. Her amber eyes opened. "H-Hyperion." She coughed. "Don't come any closer. I could hurt you." "Not in this form you can't." Hyperion reminded her as she moved alongside, licking her muzzle lovingly. Kilauea managed a shaky purr, breaking it off as she convulsed. Her hull rippled and shuddered as she coughed. Hyperion used a fin to rub across her back, ignoring the blood she got on her. Kilauea moaned. "I've had bad ones before but not this bad." "You said earlier you felt something shift. What was it?" Hyperion asked. "Something in the Asthenos. I don't know what exactly. But there was a massive spike in pressure. Right now that's trying to be relieved." Kilauea replied. "Here in Hawaii?" Hyperion asked. Kilauea shook her head. "Worldwide." She corrected, seeing Hyperion's eyes widen in horror. Kilauea was of a unique breed. She was a ship and not a ship. A personification of the mountain she was named for. Same could be said for 1500 others around the world. Just one going off could be devastating enough, but all at once? To make matters worse, over half of the navies around the world were made up of these ships. Losing their capabilities now would be a tremendous blow.

"Hyperion, you know the consequences as well as I." Kilauea rasped. "Something's shifted that shouldn't have. If you don't find a fix for it, you very well could become the last of your kind." Hyperion swallowed hard. "Tell me what to do, Kia. I can't possibly begin to fathom what's going on..." She whimpered. Kilauea's breaths were coming in shallower now. More blood collected in her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. But her voice was steady as she answered. "You can't rely on me to help you. Not this time. This part of the equation you must do alone." Hyperion whimpered, pressing her muzzle to hers. "I need you." She whispered. "I'm still here." Kilauea promised. "I always am." "Whatever it is, I will fix it. I promise." Hyperion whispered. Kilauea kissed her. "Fix it and come back." She rasped. Hyperion nuzzled her cheek as her eyes closed.

By morning, Arleigh had Kilauea in the medical berths. Her siblings were showing the same problems. "Medical facilities at Bremerton and San Diego report the same symptoms to our Cascade-class. Yellowstone's showing the first signs as well." Arleigh gestured to the massive aircraft carrier, lying on her side in her own berth nearby. "And just an hour ago it came in that both Fuji and Hirashika are down. Indonesia's been hit hardest though. Nearly 3/4 of their entire naval fleet are volcano ships. All are showing signs of eruptive illnesses.""Damn." Hyperion growled. "This is getting out of control." "The USGS contacted Missouri this morning. She wishes to speak with you." Arleigh said. "Understood, I'm on my way." Hyperion set sail for Ford Island.

Having a one on one meeting with the United States Supreme Flagship was intimidating to say the least but Missouri was welcoming to Hyperion. The submarine could practically hear her desperation as she gave her briefing. "The USGS determined that these changes in pressure were caused by human industrial activity at the surface. It's causing massive fluctuations in the earth's inner and outer cores." She said. "How do we stop it?" Hyperion asked. "We don't." Missouri shook herself free of her mooring lines, and turned her bow to the sea. "What we can do however is determine where the pressure is released." "I don't follow." Hyperion answered. "Its simple really and goes against everything we've been taught. But by opening cracks in the ocean floor we can allow the magma to escape there instead of on land." Missouri said. "Even if we could break open the crust, the only weapon that could possibly have a hope of doing so is..." Hyperion's eyes widened as the realization struck her. Missouri nodded grimly. "I've been in contact with the UN. Each nation with a nuclear arsenal has dispatched a fleet of submarines to the Pacific and the Atlantic trench zones. Hyperion, you'll be heading a multinational task force in the Marianas. You leave in 1 hour." Hyperion dipped her head. "Understood, Missouri." She answered. She kept her voice calm but the prospect of leading the British, the French, the Germans, the Russians, and anyone who had nuclear submarines, terrified her. What if she made a mistake? Now was the worst time for that to occur. Missouri seemed to know what she was thinking for she said "You'll do fine. Just keep focused." "Thank you Missouri." Hyperion saluted, then left for the medical berths. There was one last thing for her to do.

Kilauea was practically covered in bandages, tubes, and wires. She looked more like a mummy. "How is she?" Hyperion asked Arleigh. The healer sighed. "The stresses being placed on her are immense. She can't take it." "You mean she's _dying?!"_ Hyperion cried. "In our sense of the word, yes." Arleigh replied. "But as you know it isn't "death" as she understands it. I fear she'll only continue to "die" and come back until this is resolved." Hyperion shuddered at the thought, for the first time grateful that she could only die once. Once could be painful enough but multiple times. It was no wonder some of Kilauea's breed went mad! "Keep me informed, Arleigh. I mean it." She growled. "You have 5 minutes." The healer said and left. Hyperion was left alone with her mate. "I don't know if you can hear me." She began. "I don't know if I'd want you to. I've been chosen to lead a multinational task force to the Marianas Trench. We can't stop the plumes but we can divert them. The ocean floor seems reasonable." She paused. "I'm not going to lie to you. It will be dangerous. But then you would know that, wouldn't you." Hyperion's voice shook, her eyes filling with unspilt tears. "I need you Kia. Now more than ever. This is your field of expertise not mine." She leaned down, grabbing her mate's fin and gripping it firmly. When she let go, her diamond ring was placed on one of Kilauea's webbed fingers. "I'm trusting you with this. Keep it safe for me okay." She kissed her cheek. "I love you Kia." Leaving the berth, she met Arleigh outside the curtains. "You watch out for her!" She growled. The healer dipped her head. "I will." She promised and Hyperion left for an uncertain fate.

The Marianas trench was one of the deepest places on the planet, the bottom was 7 miles down. Hyperion hovered at the edge of it, looking down into the featureless black crack below. It was completely dark, none of her lights could penetrate it. Hyperion almost felt as though that darkness was creeping out, feeling along her hull like little fingers and she shuddered. "You're not afraid are you?" teased a Russian. "Are you?" Hyperion growled, shooting her a glare. "I am, concerned." The Russian managed, looking away. Hyperion snorted. "That's what I thought." She muttered. In a louder voice she added "It's okay to be scared." She looked around her at her fleet. "It's okay for all of us to be scared. There's no shame in admitting it. What we are about to do is dangerous and may get us killed without it ever working. If any of you have objections, you may speak them now without fear." There was a brief murmuring among the different subs as the translators explained Hyperion's words. Then for a moment, all was silent, until one submarine, a Russian, spoke up. "If we do not do this, we are all dead anyways." "I have 2 friends at home, who are suffering because of this." said a Japanese sub. "I owe them." Hyperion dipped her head. "We're dead if we don't do this and we might be dead if we do. I'd rather go down fighting, suh!" finished a British sub. Hyperion's smile widened. "Well then, as none of you have any objections. Let's get to work!"

As Hyperion got into position, she kept in constant contact with Reprisal in the Atlantic. _"For your sake, this better work."_ The other sub growled. _"This will work, for all our sakes. Because if it doesn't, it'll be the end of us all."_ Hyperion growled and fired her first set of nucs. The first flew of course and impacted with the trench wall. "Dammit!" Hyperion swore, cussing out the mechanics who made these things. Fortunately the second flew straight down, opening the trench to the mantle below. Thermal readings spiked, then dropped as the erupting magma came in contact with the ocean. Hyperion continued on, firing her remaining two nucs. This time, both worked. As the magma erupted, the trench walls became unstable and crashed down. Hyperion was just able to pull out in time. In the Atlantic, Reprisal was not so lucky. Hyperion had an open link with her and could hear what happened. Her fellow sub had been hit by debris, she was stunned by the blow and taking on water. _"Reprisal for god's sake pull up! Get out of there!"_ Hyperion roared over their comms. _"Steering's been disabled, I can't."_ Reprisal answered. _"I'm heading for the trench wall. For what its worth Hyperion, I am sorry I criticized you so much. I just.." "You wanted to see if I had chinks in my armor, I know."_ Hyperion answered gently. _"Every good leader knows they have one and works to better themselves with it. And you Hyperion, are a great leader."_ Reprisal said. _"Reprisal please."_ Hyperion begged. _"I did my duty Hyperion. Just let me go."_ Reprisal whispered. _"You have served your country with distinction and honor. I, USS Hyperion, Commander of the United States Submarine Forces, hereby promote you USS Reprisal to the rank of Cruiser and dismiss you from active duty with an Honorable Discharge."_ Hyperion could practically hear Reprisal's smile as she whispered _"Thank you, Hyperion..."_ The line went dead. Hyperion blinked back her tears as she rose out of the trench and rejoined her fleet. "All ships report success, sir." the British sub reported. "Thank you." Hyperion wasn't quite able to bring the cheer into her voice and the British sub took notice. "Something the matter, sir?" She asked. "I just got word from the Atlantic fleet. The cost of their success was higher." Hyperion sighed. "Reprisal?" Hyperion nodded. The British sub bowed her head. "I'm sorry." Hyperion nudged her. "She did her duty, as we all did today. Now its time to see if this crazy scheme actually worked. Let's go home."

After a week layover in Guam for minor repairs, an additional 2 days of lecturing from the bases' CMO, 4 days of attempted escape, and 2 more days of endless checkups to make sure everything was running smoothly, Hyperion raced into Pearl 3 weeks after her success at the Marianas. She was going so fast, she nearly ran into Arleigh who was just emerging from the medical berths. "Whoa there." The destroyer steadied her. "I assume you want to see Kia?" She asked. "How is she? Is she alright?" Hyperion practically screamed. "Easy. She and the others still have a long way to go before I'd say they're 'alright'. But they are on the mend. Your crazy plan worked, Hyperion. Maybe because it was just that, crazy." Arleigh chuckled. "Oh go on, don't let me hold you up." Hyperion vanished in a shower of spray. The destroyer laughed and continued on.

Hyperion stopped just outside Kilauea's berth, taking several deep breaths to calm her frayed nerves before tapping the curtains. "Come in." said a weak voice. Hyperion gently pushed them aside as she entered. Kilauea was lying on her side, still connected to several machines but Hyperion was pleased to see her breathing mask was gone as were a majority of the bandages that had covered her sides. The only things in her now were an IV drip and an Oxygen tube that fit to her nose. "I was wondering when you'd come around." She said with a grin. "I came as fast as I could. Sorry it took so long." Hyperion answered. "It only took so long because you gave Guam's CMO a lot of trouble. I read her report. How did she put it "Irresponsible and reckless"?" Kilauea shared her mate's laugh. "Good to see you're on the mend." Hyperion murmured, kissing the top of her head. She felt Kilauea's fin grip hers in a surprisingly strong way. But what seemed strong to Hyperion, was likely just a light squeeze for her mate. When she let go, Hyperion's ring was back on her webbed finger. "You left that here. Why?" Kilauea asked. "Don't you know?" Kilauea swallowed hard. "You didn't plan on coming back." She sighed. "Hyperion, I knew the risks when I mated with you. I knew that, one day, you would leave me. I knew that one day, my heart would be broken. I thought I could be ready for it." She looked up to meet Hyperion's gaze. "I now know that no amount of time or preparation could ever ready me for that day." "So what are you saying? You don't want to be with me anymore?" Hyperion asked. "I also came to another conclusion. Even though one day it will hurt me in ways I can't even begin to fathom, you are not just my bane but my life. I cannot live with you but I cannot live without you either. Leaving you now would be." She searched for the right word. "Unbearable." She managed at last. "Oh Kia..." Hyperion buried her muzzle into her mate's side. "I wish I could be immortal. For you if no one else." "It can be a pretty lonely existence." Kilauea told her. "Guess I'll just have to hope then that someone finds and names a Mt. Hyperion. Then I could be with you."

Hyperion backed off a second later, shaking her head. She raised a fin to her ear, still in shock as she felt the blood collecting there. Kilauea stared at her, her fin still raised, pants intensifying. "Don't say that. Don't you ever say that." She growled. "Being a mountain is a terrible, terrible way to live." She leaned forward, her muzzle mere inches from Hyperion's. "First you witness everyone you love die from disease and age. Then, when all them are gone and their descendants have forgotten you, you exist merely to exist. Your purpose is forgotten, everything you ever were becomes meaningless. All you want is to die. You seek death around every tree, beyond every wave, every island. And when it finally does come, you no longer care about anything. Not even how much it may hurt. Such an existence, it's maddening!" Kilauea turned away. "But only if you spend it alone." Hyperion murmured softly. Kilauea kept her back to her. Hyperion sighed. "You're right, I do not understand what that existence can be like but I do know that even in the mortal world, being alone is never a good thing. I cannot promise immortality, but I can promise you I will be here for as long as I can. And I will never, _ever_ forget you!" She curled around her, relishing in her warmth.

"Oh Hyperion..." Kilauea sighed, leaning into her. "I'm here. Focus on that. For now and for as long as you need me, I'm here." Hyperion whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Kilauea twisted at the last second, mashing her lips to her mate's. Hyperion adjusted her angle, fins working to grab Kilauea's shoulders. When the volcano broke off for air, Hyperion's lips trailed down her throat, teeth nicking her shoulder. A moan escaped her before she came to her senses. "No, Hyperion." She rasped. "No." She gently pushed her mate away. Hyperion understood. "Your right, that was stupid of me. You're vulnerable right now." She sighed. Kilauea could hear the disappointment in her voice and nuzzled her neck. "Later." She promised. Hyperion smiled as the two settled back in the berth. She snuggled up to her mate as Kilauea placed a fin over her, pulling her close. "Later." She agreed as the pair rested in each other's warmth and love. Their future, whatever it was, would be faced together.

 **THE END**


	23. Lithium Addiction: Part 4

Part 4~ Before the Dawn

Tennessee knew something was off when she couldn't find Greeneville. Despite her altered nature it wasn't like the Los Angeles-class to just run off. Entering her berth she noticed several distinct bite marks on the dock where Greeneville cribbed in her frustration. A twinkle caught her eye, just below the water's surface and she dipped her head below the waves, spotting a silver chain snagged on the dock. She gently pulled it free and returning to the surface, observed it. It was a locket, the one Tennessee had given to her before the accident. It seemed like an age ago. She opened it, finding the image still intact though a little soggy. It was clear Greeneville had intended for it never to be found. Tennessee held the locket close to her chest, realizing the truth. "Oh Greeneville." She whispered. "What have you done?" The sub had gone to kill herself.

 _Meet me after dark again and I'll hold you. I want nothing more than to see you again!_

An all out search was conducted. Air, surface and subsurface radar was used. Helicopters dropped sonar buoys, desperate to find even a hint of Greeneville's whereabouts. Eventually one reported in.

"Sir, we have debris!"

Fleet Healer Arleigh Burke was dispatched to investigate. What she found shocked her. "Tennessee, you better have a look at this!" She called. It was all of Greeneville's weapons. Her Mark 40 torpedoes and her missiles.

 _And maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away. We'll be lost before the dawn._

"No..." Tennessee refused to accept the sub had gone. Greeneville wouldn't have drowned herself, it wasn't her style.

"Tenne..." Arleigh tried.

"No. No I won't accept this. I won't stop searching. Even if its only to find a body to bring home." Tennessee dove deep, leveling out at 800 feet just skimming over a ridge. She headed south, following the strong currents that would've carried any heavier debris or even a body in that direction.

 _If only I could hold you and I could see you my love. Then let me never ever wake again!_

As she went along, she saw the glimmering of small bits of metal. It was a hypodermic needle. The same that Greeneville used to take her Lithium injections. Tennessee was on the right path.

The debris trail got thicker until the dark shape of a sub could be seen in a gully. The disturbed earth leading to it suggested Greeneville had rolled down the slope before landing there.

Tennessee wasted no time diving to that position, grabbing Greeneville in her fins and lifting the Los Angeles-class so she could grasp her face. Greeneville was terrifyingly limp against her. "You're coming home Greene." She whispered. "You're coming home..."

 _And maybe tonight we'll fly so far away we'll be lost before the dawn!_

Arleigh was quick to respond and she carried the critically injured sub back to port while Tennessee remained behind to gather all the weapons floating on the surface. Wouldn't do to have someone else come by and grab them.

 _Somehow I know that we can't wake again from this dream. It's not real but its ours!_

Greeneville was a mess. Her organs were suffering from the masses of Lithium injected. They couldn't take it and were shutting down. Arleigh had her stomach pumped and put her blood through a filter to remove any trace of the Lithium. About halfway through the surgery, Greeneville began to convulse. Her overworked body begged for Lithium but Arleigh refused to give her the drug. She could survive without it. Eventually, Greeneville relaxed though her fins still twitched.

Tennessee arrived late that night. "How is she?" She asked.

"Weak but with rest she should be fine. Do not give her any Lithium! No matter how much she begs. Do not give it to her!" Arleigh growled.

"Not a chance." Tennessee promised. "She hates me anyway."

"No she doesn't. Where did you get that idea?" Arleigh asked and Tennessee told her about the locket. "Tenne, Greeneville is a very sick sub. You know that. And sometimes, ships who are sick just don't want to be help. Either because they're too proud to admit they're sick or they refuse to believe they are sick. Either way, it's not the person who's trying to help them they hate. Its themselves, for having a weakness that's noticed." Arleigh said. "Greeneville loves you Tennessee, she just needs to love herself."

Once the healer had left, Tennessee was left to her own thoughts. Had she pushed Greeneville too hard? Is that why the Los Angeles-class had snapped. She felt her part hard. Her job was to protect Greeneville, give her something to work for, a purpose. She'd failed.

"What am I going to do with you now?" She sighed, a fin rubbing down Greeneville's back. She got no response from the other sub. She never expected one. Nonetheless she lowered her head, resting it over Greeneville's near still flank and cried herself to sleep.

 _Maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away we'll be lost before the dawn._

 _And maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away we'll be lost before the dawn._


	24. Lithium Addiction: Part 5

Part 5~ Hello

 _Playground school bell rings, again. Rain clouds come to play, again._

Her brush with death hadn't changed Greeneville. Tennessee remembered Arleigh's words but it was still hard to see her student stare at her with such hate. She wasn't sure if herself was the only thing Greeneville hated. In fact, the Los Angeles-class had become even more defiant taking to physical attacks rather than verbal. Tennessee had to keep her weapons constantly armed for fear Greeneville would strike if her guard was down.

It was after one such incident that Greeneville wondered off, limping slightly with a sprained fin. Tennessee, remembering the last time she'd just let her student wonder off, followed covertly.

 _Has no one told you she's not breathing. Hello, I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to. Hello..._

Oahu was always a beautiful place but Greeneville was blind to beauty as she dropped anchor off diamond head. She took a look at her surroundings, observing a school of fish swimming lazily in front of her bow. She could've easily reached down and scooped them up in her jaws. A quick snack. But she didn't. She didn't feel like eating at the moment. In fact, she hadn't felt hungry for some time. Though her exposed ribs could argue that.

Greeneville had lost quite a fair bit of weight since her emergence from her suicide attempt. She looked more like a shark than a submarine, her hull a size too large on her thin frame. She watched as a pair of fish raced past, nipping at each others fins and completely without fear beside the much larger predator. "I envy you." Greeneville sighed. "Free to swim as you wish. Without worries or cares. Without addictions..." The sub broke off with another sigh before continuing on.

 _If I smile and don't believe soon I know I'll wake from this dream._

Greeneville sailed around to the windward side of the island, finding a private little harbor. Usually it was used for expensive snobby yachts but was currently empty. Most ships took to avoiding her nowadays. Greeneville found a shady beach and hauled herself onto it, allowing the sun filtering through the trees to warm her hull. But her heart remained cold. She couldn't recall the last time it had seen the sun.

 _Don't try to fix me I'm not broken, hello. I'm the lie living for you so you can hide, don't cry!_

Tennessee warily approached her. Greeneville was unpredictable as ever nowadays. There was no telling what she might decide to do. She could be as gentle as a ham or attack, even kill Tennessee even though the latter would mean her own death through scrapping. She just didn't have any sense of self preservation anymore.

Greeneville showed no signs of hearing Tennessee's approach, even though Tennessee was certain she would've heard her by now. She hauled herself out beside her, pausing as she heard Greeneville's warning growl. The smaller sub had one glaring amber eye trained on her, her teeth bared slightly as the growl originated from her throat. But for the first time Tennessee was not afraid for she was finally seeing Greeneville for what she really was. A frightened, injured sub so afraid of her own weakness she was willing to turn to aggression to hide it. As if it would somehow make her appear strong.

Tennessee knew she was pushing her luck. She could very well get herself seriously bitten. But at great risk to herself, she pressed her muzzle to Greeneville's side, growling softly and lovingly to the Los Angeles-class.

 _Somehow I know I'm not sleeping. Hello?! I'm still here all that's left of yesterday..._

That's what did it. Greeneville snapped but instead of responding with aggression, she fell against Tennessee, shaking from bow to stern as her anguish spilled over. Tennessee held her, stroking her back in long soothing strokes. She had gotten through to Greeneville, finally. The festered wounds had been opened, now it was time to start healing them.


	25. Lithium Addiction: Part 6 (final part)

Part 6~ Good Enough

Greeneville's progress improved radically after she'd opened herself up to Tennessee. She was no longer alone. She felt empowered to do better, to do some good and atone for her mistakes. Her progress was so rapid that at the last fleet inspections, she was given the award for "Most Improvement" by Missouri. She got high marks on her performance as well and was well on her way to earning the Bonhome Richard Award* at this rate. But as always, the seeds of doubt followed her.

 _Under your spell again, I can't say no to you. Crave my heart and its bleeding in your hand. I can't say no to you._

Tennessee and her were on good terms now. In fact they were closer than before this whole thing started. Tennessee's mate Florida didn't mind though and welcomed the Los Angeles-class into the family. The three could often be seen together in port and on short patrols around the island. Greeneville adored both of them.

 _Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly. Now I can't let go of this dream. I can't breathe but I feel good enough. I feel good enough for you._

Greeneville's injuries were healing well and the physical therapy was going much better. Her grasp on motor skills was improving and her language had improved dramatically. But the submarine still felt like something was missing. She wasn't complete. The hole in her life troubled her. More so as she couldn't quite determine what it was. Was it doubt? Or something more...

 _Drink up sweet decadence. I can't say no to you. And I've completely lost myself and I don't mind! I can't say not to you! Shouldn't let you conquer me completely. Now I can't let go of this dream. Can't believe that I feel good enough. I feel good enough._

Greeneville pushed it aside though. She felt happy. Happier than she'd felt in a while and she relished the feeling. Sailing in company with Tennessee one afternoon she asked the Ohio-class if she could scout ahead. Tennessee agreed, knowing Greeneville was well past the "i'm gonna do something stupid" stage. With a happy giggle, the Los Angeles-class raced off in a shower of spray.

 _It's been such a long time coming but I feel good._

She went a half mile in front of Tennessee before slowing down. She thought she knew what the hole in her life was. It wasn't just doubt, it was demons. Her own demons that she had yet to completely let go of. She was doing well. She'd been clean for almost a year but there was always that chance. Always that opportunity to take that needle and inject herself with that stuff. She waked the water with her fins, spraying it up in the air and having it come down like rain.

 _And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall! Pour real down on me cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough!_

Greeneville glanced behind her, watching as Tennessee came up her starboard quarter. _"Am I good enough for you to love me too?"_ She wondered.

"Greeneville?" Tennessee questioned, curious about her fellow sub's behavior. Greeneville merely smiled and leaned into her. Tennessee smiled and nuzzled her in return.

Greeneville purred. "Tennessee?" She asked.

"Yes?" The bigger sub looked at her.

 _"Take care of what you ask of me cause I can't say no."_

*Bonhome Richard derived from John Paul Jones Award, a high merit award for leadership and performance.


	26. Different but the Same: Part 1

SEATTLE WASHINGTON JUNE 1958

Horns blared, sirens wailed, people shouted as the every day thrum of activity that marked a big city sounded across the still clear night. It reached the ears of a lone creature, sitting patiently at a pier belonging to the US Navy, one of many throughout the harbor. 328 feet of cloudy gray shifted with the gentle rolling of the tide. Eyes, luminous green and glowing like something out of a science fiction film flickered back and forth as their owner homed on the various sounds she received. Outwardly, she looked no different than her predecessors, sharing the same knife bow and the stubby fins that were a nod to her sea lion genetics. Inwardly however, was another story altogether.

Almost absentmindedly a fin went up to her neck and the green eyes closed as she mentally counted. Ever since she was first commissioned some four years ago, she'd been trained and told time and again to constantly check her heart. It was far too strong for her outward design and she'd had some problems with that imbalance in the past. Being restricted in her raw natural ability by something as simple as her physical strength. It could be maddening at times but Nautilus managed. She was every bit something out of science fiction as her namesake was. And perhaps that was the reason why she currently sat here alone in an area where there should be at least a dozen other submarines. The green eyes flickered to a berth on the far side of the docks where said submarines all huddled, 14 in all. Ever since she arrived here in Seattle, not one had spoken to her. Where they were currently was as close as they'd even dare come. Just because she carried a different fuel source, just because she could sail further, swim faster and fight better than they ever could, they avoided her. She often heard them whispering amongst themselves, speaking things both vile and rumor as though she wasn't there. A sigh escaped the young submarine. It wasn't as if she was bothered by it. She'd known nothing else since her launch. Other subs refused to go near her, surface ships rarely spoke a word to her. Her only interaction was with her human caretakers. In her four years, Nautilus had overcome the language barrier separating their two species. She spoke English more than her native tongue and was quite fluent in Russian as well, though she hoped never to test that. Her only relation amongst her own kind was that with her sister, USS Seawolf. Seawolf was a year younger than her and last Nautilus heard, remained stationed in New London. Nautilus did not expect to see her again until she completed her mission.

Operation Sunshine as Eisenhower dubbed it, was a risky, dangerous, and pointless task that involved no exercises, nor no real advantage to be gained. All it was meant to do, was to show up the Russians. A year earlier, the red bastards had launched Sputnik into space. Since then the US Navy had wanted revenge for that upstart as such fervor spread throughout the fleet. Nautilus, a commissioned warship, was not immune. Like so many before her, she heard the klaxons ring and the whistle blow. The mission was at hand and Nautilus would do her duty for her fleet, and for her country.

She set sail on 9 June, heading almost due north. The closer she got to the pole, the colder the water became. Traveling through it at nearly 20 knots, Nautilus relied on her inner layer of blubber to keep her warm. Like most sea creatures, she had such natural insulation. In the open sea, nothing could challenge a submarine. They were the undisputed queens of the deep, ever since their species evolution some 500 million years ago. They were older than the shark, which was shaped by their appearance and subsequently everything else in the ocean biosphere followed. Reaching her cruising speed the submarine allowed her crew control as she did a routine check of her heart rate. Despite being in closer relation to modern day seals and sea lions, Nautilus' heart was far more similar to that of a whale's and was expected to behave accordingly. 25 bpm's was a little high for her taste, she usually ran at about 21 bpm. It was still within acceptable limits however so Nautilus decided not to concern herself too much with it. She did make a mental note however to increase her workout regiment when she returned to port.

Sailing into the Chukchi Sea north of the Bering Strait, Nautilus was instantly struck by how thick the ice was. At this time of year, ice commonly broke off from the main cap and drifted south in flows. This was one such flow but it was massive, extending some 80 feet beneath the surface. In such shallow water, this meant that Nautilus had less than her own length of water between the bottom of the ice and the ocean floor. The submarine made the hard choice to turn around and go back. It wouldn't do to come all this way, only to get caught between a rock and a hard place quite literally.

Entering Seattle 10 days after she left, Nautilus found her berth not turning an eye or flinching a muscle at the mad scramble the other submarines gave as they made for the distant berth. One submarine remained however and she sat there quivering, too afraid to move. Nautilus didn't pay her any mind. A gentle nudge made her turn however. The poor little diesel boat looked scared out of her wits but she held Nautilus' gaze bravely, a spark of defiance lighting her eyes. She was brave, the atomic submarine had to give her points for that. Her friends, huddled together in their own berth watched. Nautilus' superb hearing easily picked up on their hushed conversation. Clearly her poor companion had been dared into this if the exchange of doe was anything to go by. Bribing the smallest sub of the bunch to approach and touch her as if she was some kind of monster? Nautilus snorted, shooting them a glare for their crappy friendship skills before turning her attention back to the other submarine. She was Tang-class, if Nautilus' memory served her correctly. To scared to fight, too scared to run, her smaller companion could only freeze as Nautilus turned her big gray head to her. Those fierce fangs were shown and the last thing Harder remembered before fainting was the feeling of a soft muzzle against her side.

Harder's dreams were harsh and wild and the submarine came to in a cold sweat a few hours later. Her port fin ached from when she was laying on it and grumbling the Tang-class rolled on an even keel. She became aware that she was resting against something warm and firm as she had been for the past several hours. Night had fallen and the temperature went with the sun. Harder snuggled closer to that warmth, relishing in it if only for a few more minutes. The warmth shifted and Harder whined before she felt a second warmth against her opposite side. Hot breath tickled her ear and moments later Harder felt a rough tongue against her port fin. She winced a bit as the stubby appendage made its protests known. The licking paused only briefly before it resumed again. As the fog cleared from her sleepy mind, Harder became more aware of her surroundings. She was lying against another submarine obviously if the distinctive heartbeat was anything to go by. But something was different. Harder would've almost said it was like listening to one of the older boats as they slept, their hearts altered with age. But this heart sounded young and strong, almost too strong. It beat so powerfully in Harder's ears that she wondered just how the hull contained such a force. Instinctively, the Tang-class responded to the licks by stretching herself out, lying on her stomach as her muzzle and tongue worked along her companion's side in tandem. The scent was off, the taste was unique and left a tingle on her tongue. This wasn't a diesel submarine and that's when it all came back to Harder.

Nautilus pulled back with a squeal as Harder's teeth sank into her port fin. "What the hell you crazy bitch?!" She panted, settling on the opposite side of the berth from Harder. "What was that for?!" Harder was panting, eyes wide. "You-just stay away from me!" She cried. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done that already." Nautilus replied, remaining calm. Getting worked up would not help matters, she needed to keep a cool head. "You on the other prop, seemed quite eager to take a chunk out of me." She added, glancing at her fin. It'd suffered a pretty severe bite. Harder's teeth had crushed the fragile small bones and tore open a large portion when Nautilus had pulled back suddenly. She thought she saw a remnant of a tooth impeded there. _"Could've been worse."_ She thought with a grimace. _"It could've been my nose."_ She turned back to Harder who'd gotten a bit bolder since her attack. She'd moved closer to the larger submarine though her stance remained that of an aggressor. It took all of Nautilus' willpower to keep her hackles down and mute the answering growls she felt rising in her throat. A fight now was the last thing she needed even though she could easily kill the smaller, older submarine. Harder seemed quite aware of this for she stopped just out of range of the larger sub's jaws. Plucking up the courage, she met that green gaze and asked simply "Why?" It took Nautilus a moment to recognize her native tongue. It was on such a rare occasion she used it that she wasn't as fluent as she would like to be. "Why what? Why I care for you? Why I not kill you?" Nautilus struggled to provide some kind of intelligible answer. "Why not?" Harder sighed. "You could've killed me." She said. "Yes." Nautilus agreed. "You could've thrown me out of your berth. I had, have no right to be here." Harder said. Again, Nautilus provided the affirmative. "So why didn't you?" Harder asked. This one was a bit harder for Nautilus to answer but she managed as best she could resorting to fin gestures as well as words to get her sentence across. "You, my fleet mate. You, my friend. I help you." "Yes but _why?!_ " Harder groaned. "How do I convey this?" She grumbled, pacing back and forth in her frustration. Nautilus remained where she was, waiting patiently. "I wasn't just dared to come to you though I'll admit I was." Harder began. "The others, they're convinced you're a monster. A freak. I don't think that's true. You've been bullied, pushed around, had blood drawn time and again by your own fleetmates. Your friends as you call them. And you haven't once returned the favor. Why don't you?" Nautilus straightened as best she could, wincing from the pain in her fin. She lowered her head so her eyes were level with Harder's before replying "Would only prove them right." Harder sighed. "I suppose I can't argue with that now can I?"

The water in the berth was quickly becoming more red than blue as blood from Nautilus' fin seeped into the sea. As Harder processed what she'd just been told, she looked down to notice this. "Let me see it." She muttered. Nautilus made a questioning noise or what may or may not have passed for it. Sighing again, the older submarine raised her head to look at her fleetmate. "Your fin, let me see it." She ordered again. Nautilus slowly held it out to her, blood dripping off the wounded section in several places, the glint of red visible as the light from the streetlamps hit it. Being extra gentle, Harder used a deck lamp to illuminate it better. "Looks like you gained one of my teeth." She said, feeling around her mouth. Sure enough, the tip of one of her incisors was missing. "As soon as I remove this it's going to start bleeding like an ever bigger bitch than what it already is." She said. "And it will hurt." Nautilus' breath hitched. "Understood." She said quietly. Adjusting her grip on the stubby gray appendage, Harder lowered her head and got her front fangs around the tooth. She pushed down with her fins and at the same time pulled up with her head. Nautilus squealed and Harder was pulled forward as the larger submarine pulled her injured fin back towards her main body. "Got it." Harder mumbled through the piece of enamel in her mouth. She spat it out onto the dock as she glared, unappreciative. "Waste of a perfectly good tooth." She snorted. "Now, fin please." She ordered. Nautilus shook her head resolutely, using her starboard fin to stem the flow of blood. "If I don't clean that son of a bitch, it's going to get infected. Now do you want to spend 3 weeks in drydock with a high fever and a fin so swollen you can't even tell its there anymore? Fin, now." She ordered. With a submissive whine, Nautilus held her injured appendage back out again. Harder tried to be gentle but that didn't stop Nautilus from pulling back every now and then when the older submarine licked a certain spot. Each time she did, Harder had to coax her into giving out her fin again. Eventually she finished. "Right, now I need to bandage it. And this time, no pulling away. I don't care how much it hurts!" She growled. Another submissive whine and a head dip was her answer. It must've hurt for Harder heard the grinding of Nautilus' teeth as she wrapped the fin up in a tight brace. She had to not only keep the bleeding under control but also, set the fin so that as it healed, it healed properly. The bones were her biggest concern and would take a qualified surgeon to deal with. Harder did not have such a qualification but she did the best she could in wrapping the wound up tight. "There we are. Now be gentle with it okay?" She asked. Nautilus did not pull her fin back as before, instead she kept it held out in front of Harder. The older submarine rolled her eyes. "What? You want me to kiss it?" She asked. Rolling her eyes again and suppressing a snort, Harder gently took the fin in her own and pressed her lips gently to the side of the wound. "Happy now?" She asked and Nautilus tossed her head, grunting what was supposed to be a yes but was so strongly accented it was hard for Harder to make it out.

"You don't use your native tongue much do you?" She asked and Nautilus shook her head. "Well, I can tell that much. We'll need to work on that." Harder muttered. She didn't comprehend what she said until Nautilus tilted her head to the side, questioning. "I'll help you." She said. "After all who are you going to turn to?" Nautilus made a happy sound, tossing her head eagerly. "Not tonight though. That wound needs time to heal so for right now, you rest." Harder ordered. Nautilus grumbled but did as she was told, settling back down in her berth, rolling on her starboard side as she prepared to go to sleep. Her bandaged port fin remained up in the air instead of being plastered to her side and Harder understood what the younger submarine was asking. She chuckled. "You're a big teddy bear you are." She muttered to herself, moving in and settling underneath that fin, purring as she felt it come down to rest gently across her aft deck. Nautilus hummed her happiness, quite content as she felt the older submarine snuggle to her. As Harder rolled more on her side, her own port fin brushed Nautilus'. The bigger submarine stiffened briefly with surprise before she just as quickly relaxed. Harder, feeling a bit bold, spread her webbed vestigial fingers, six in all, and entwined with Nautilus who only had four. The two fell asleep like that, snuggled tight to one another and holding fins throughout the night.


	27. A Lesson in History: Part 2

SEATTLE WASHINGTON JUNE 1958

In the morning, Harder woke to find that Nautilus had shifted during the night. The larger submarine currently lay on her back, fins resting across her stomach. Briefly, the Tang-class worried about this "belly up" position until she remembered hearing that atomic submarines needed to keep their heart calm. Being on one's back in the water did a fine job of hypnotizing Nautilus into being relaxed. Harder was careful not to disturb her companion as she shifted to a more awake and alert position. A quick look around her revealed her "friends" in the same place that they were last night all huddled together. Harder flashed them a dirty look as they held out their doe to her for succeeding. "Keep your money." She snorted. "It was a pointless dare anyways." Footsteps approached and Harder turned back in time to see a group of sailors coming down to them, each carrying a bucket. A quick taste of the air told Harder she was about to get herring for breakfast. The smell of food woke Nautilus who quickly rolled back on her keel.

"Hey girl." The sailor assigned to her said, leaning down. She gave an excited bark, too eager to bother with English. "You want your food?" He asked, reaching into the bucket. Another bark was his answer as Nautilus chased her stern. Harder couldn't help but laugh at her behavior. She was like a giant dog begging for food. The man held it out to her, a great contrast to his pals who threw their fish a good five feet from the water. Most submarines, while not disrespectful nor disliking of humans, preferred not to have certain contact with the two legged land creatures. They were like a guard dog. They did their jobs well and respected their master but always remained outside the house. Nautilus acted more like one of those indoor house pets Harder sometimes saw following their owner on a leash. _"I bet she would too if she was attached to one."_ The older submarine thought, watching as Nautilus pressed her nose lovingly to the man's outstretched hand, as calm and trusting as ever. She barked softly at Harder and it took the older submarine a moment to filter through that heavily accented voice to determine what she wanted. She wanted her to come forward. Harder hesitated but Nautilus barked the order again, this time giving the Tang-class a nudge to prove her point. Harder slowly came forward, remaining close to Nautilus' side. The sailor slowly stretched his hand out a herring in his palm. He was being cautious and careful. Harder could easily bite him if she wanted to. The older submarine wasn't used to eating out of someone's hand. Usually the people would just toss her her food and it'd be up to her to grab it before it floated away or sank. She glanced at Nautilus who gave an encouraging chirp. Seeing she wasn't getting out of this, Harder sighed and gently took the fish out of the man's hand, downing it in one swift gulp. She eyed the still outstretched and now empty hand with some wariness but with another resigned sigh, she lowered her head, pressing her muzzle to the palm. The stroking felt nice and Harder could see why Nautilus liked it so much. A glance at the atomic submarine showed her on her back getting belly rubs from at least three more men. Harder nudged the hand currently on her. Just once, for the sake of curiosity she wanted to know what it felt like to be pet. The sailor obliged her and Harder was soon on her back as well, rolling about cutely as she gave whines and whimpers for more.

Eventually though the sailors had to leave and Nautilus and Harder were left alone. The bigger submarine looked ready for a nap and Harder left her to it. Apparently Nautilus' high metabolism demanded more rest than her elders. Harder kept herself busy in the meantime by looking over the charts for her next patrol. Nothing much had changed other than a few extra surface ships on their routes. Nothing like a bit more traffic to keep her props rotating. Nautilus gave a massive tooth bearing yawn as she woke. "Sleep well?" Harder asked her. "Mmm." Nautilus agreed, still looking a bit out of it. Harder chuckled. "Are you always this sluggish in the morning?" She asked. "Most of the time." Nautilus agreed. "I'm not a morning person that's for sure." She gave another yawn as she made a big stretch, raising her bow completely out of the water as she rolled her shoulders back. "Ooh I'm stiff." She groaned, giving her aft quarter a distasteful eye. "Take a lap around. That's what I do and it always works." Harder suggested. Nautilus nodded and exited the berth. Once in open water, she picked up speed, waves lapping her bow and sides as she dashed about. Harder watched her with the eye of an experienced salt, admiring her sleek, slender profile built for speed, and her quick agility that would impress a destroyer. She was merely cruising along, not pushing herself in any way but she was easily going faster surfaced than Harder could ever hope to go. No wonder this upstart submarine beat the pants off the navy's finest in every fleet exercise. Nautilus was the embodiment of everything a submarine represented, power, grace, agility, strength. She was a true queen of the seas. She must've known it too but she never acted like it. Always too humble, too soft to be that kind of ruler. But her natural born abilities said otherwise and Harder had to remind herself that this submarine was just the beginning of a new dynasty of rulers in a long line of queens. 500 million years her kind had ruled this planet. Nothing, not even the dinosaurs could match that. Submarines had been around from the very beginning, predating the shark even by some 100 million years. "N'torsik. Mizo'ne de'ira catenza."* Harder muttered.

Nautilus returned with a grin on her face, exhilarated by her short run. "Worked like a charm, Harder thank you." She said. Harder nodded, not paying much attention to her younger companion. Her thoughts were still on her ancestors. Nautilus took notice. "Something wrong?" She asked. "Oh, no." Harder shook herself out of the prehistoric past. "Just thinking is all." "Pretty serious thinking." Nautilus muttered. "Did anyone ever teach you not to be nosy?" Harder asked. Nautilus shrugged. "Did anyone ever teach you that keeping secrets is a bad idea?" She countered. Harder growled, well aware of that regulation. The atomic submarine was just too clever for her own good. "Well, if you must know noseta." Nautilus chuckled, the barb having no affect on her. Harder glared and continued. "I was remembering our ancestors." "The Ancients?" Nautilus guessed, tilting her head to the side. "Before them." Harder corrected. "Before the Ancients?" Nautilus asked, eyes widening in disbelief. "Come now, Nautilus. Don't tell me you believe the Ancients have been around forever?" Harder snorted. "Well, Britannia signed a pact with them which began the Common Era and they weren't called the Ancients then so I suppose you're right." Nautilus allowed. "Well, in this modern era human science has opened the window into the past. We now know more about our kind than ever before. Things that were once forgotten are now remembered once more." Harder said.

Nautilus listened with rapt interest. She hadn't heard much of her kind. Other submarines avoided her and what she did manage to learn was hushed bits of conversations from afar. "Submarines as a species date back 500 million years." Harder said. Nautilus recalled something of that time period, learned from her many discussions with her crew. "That would be beginning of the Ordo- no Cambrian Period right? Something called the Cambrian Explosion. When the first multi-celled organisms appeared on Earth." She said. "Very good Nautilus, I'll make a scholar out of you yet." Harder chuckled, ducking the other sub's playful strike. "We were small creatures then, which wasn't unusual for the time. And were, for the lack of a better term, bottom feeders. We were scavengers mostly and prey for other creatures such as the mighty Straight Nautiloid and the feared Eurypterid, the large Scorpion. Our closest relative at the time I believe was Astraspis." "How did we become the apex predator then?" Nautilus asked. "At the end of the Ordovician, and this is still up in the air mind you so don't quote me on it, a gamma ray burst caused the removal of our planet's ozone layer, killing off most species. The Straight Nautiloids were severely weakened and the Eurypterid's claimed the throne. We ourselves moved up a notch in the food chain, becoming a predator ourselves though we were still prey for the Scorpions." Harder replied. "Until the Devonian. The mantle plume." Nautilus realized. "Well by that time we had become a top predator though that niche was shared with Duckolostious." Harder replied. Nautilus shuddered at the thought of the feared armored fish. Duckolostious was not a creature to be mocked, their now extinct cousin deserved his respect. "So when he went extinct, the title was left to us alone." She said. "Aye and we've held it ever since. That was a few million years before the shark appeared kiddo. Those upstart fish have been our prey ever since." Harder nuzzled her. "Now I think that's enough for today." She said, seeing that Nautilus was growing sleepy again. "You'll tell me more won't you?" The atomic submarine asked. "I will." Harder promised, smiling as Nautilus' breaths became light snores.

Harder could've returned to her charts, maybe she could've dared setting up a water trap for an unsuspecting pollywag. She was never too old for pranks. But she was old and did feel her age at times. The weak Seattle sun shone through the clouds for the first time that day and Harder allowed the rays to warm her hull, sighing as her old bones relaxed. _"Just this once."_ She thought, cuddling to her companion. Sleep took her as easily as it did Nautilus.

...

*"Queens. Rulers then, now, and forever


	28. 90 North: Part 3

JULY 1958 SEATTLE WASHINGTON

By the 23rd, Nautilus' nearly month long wait was enough and she set sail for her third try at the Pole. "Be careful." Harder said. "I will." Nautilus smiled. "After all, third time's a charm." Harder nuzzled her. "I'll meet you in New York." She said. "You'll likely get there before me. I have a lot more ground to cover, seeing as I'll be stopping in England first." Nautilus said. "Aye, that is true." The two shared a brief embrace before Nautilus was forced to pull back and continue on her way. "Fair winds, my sister!" Harder called. "And kind seas for you!" came the reply.

The coast of the Pacific Northwest soon became nothing more than a green smug on the aft horizon before it disappeared all together. Nautilus was left alone in the open sea with naught but a pod of local Orcas for company. The black and white fish often formed the staple of a submarine's diet but they showed no fear now as they circled around their natural predator. They were a curious bunch, always had been and Nautilus allowed them this one freebie as they sailed in company.

Nautilus' last two tries at the Pole had given her valuable insight into the underwater topography of the Arctic ice cap. The shallow waters of the Bering Strait made it impossible to pass through North of the Aleutians. So instead, Nautilus set a course North and East for a deep narrow stretch of water that served as the only means to pass through the Strait and into the Arctic Ocean, the Barrow Sea Valley. It was a trench more or less, of the same mold as the Marianna's and Challenger Deep further south. The same fault line off Japan's western coast ran through here as well. Nautilus kept all her senses fine tuned for any minute changes in the rock strata. Beyond the steep sides of the trench was the flat open seabed beneath the thick ice cap. It was so shallow that if an earthquake happened now, Nautilus would have no where to go. She would be stuck in the trench and doomed to die either from an opening vent or a rock slide.

The submarine breathed a sigh of relief as she made it safely through the Barrow Sea Valley. The water was colder here, colder for this depth than anywhere else on earth. She'd reached the Pole of Inaccessibility, a desolate point in the middle of the ice cap, hence its name. The further north she traveled, the more unreliable her on board instruments became. Her compass was being thrown off by the intense magnetic distortion caused by the near presence of the North Pole. Beyond 85 degrees latitude, it and everything else became useless. The sub now relied solely on her natural born senses, some of the most finally tuned on the planet. The deep ocean was her home and she knew more about it than what those instruments could ever tell her. Up to this point, Nautilus had trusted in her crew's navigation skills, steering her safely through an area of the ocean that she had no experience with. Now, they would have to trust that their submarine's 500 million years of evolution would be enough to see them through to the other side. Like most animals, Nautilus' had a sense that could tune into the Earth's magnetic field. Though still unproven, it was supposedly the reason why animals could sense a natural disaster before it became reality such as earthquakes and volcanoes. That natural sense was going crazy at the moment. Most animals who felt the kind of disorientation that Nautilus was feeling would succumb to it and become lost, wondering in circle until they died in a sort of longitude roulette. But Nautilus used the disorientation, finding which direction made it intensify and followed that course. For the worse it got, the closer she was to reaching the Pole.

45 minutes before midnight on the 3rd of August, the submarine halted, floating several hundred feet below the surface, squeezed between the pack ice above and the seafloor below. A glance at her spinning compass confirmed her suspicion. When at either of the poles, a compass would spin in an aimless circle. For the South Pole, it spun counterclockwise, for the North it spun clockwise. It was currently doing the latter. A cheer rose up from her crew and Nautilus herself joined in the chorus. It'd taken her 3 separate attempts, and 4 months of an endless string of trial and failure. But at last, at long last she had done it! She became the first ship, the first submarine in history to reach the North Pole.


	29. The Best of Friends: Part 1

_Two unlikely submarines, one hurting from a recent personal loss. The other, a stranger to this century, are paired together. Can Memphis and Hunley work together or will they be forever at each other's throats._

CHARLESTON BAY, SOUTH CAROLINA AUGUST 8 2000

 _*GAAASSSP!*_

Hazel brown eyes flew open and at once a struggle occurred as the small creature fought against the hospital ships holding her. Hushed swear words and quick sentences interspersed with loud barks and snarls in a language fortunately foreign to the ships listening. To all but one that is. USS Memphis winced at the sounds made by the much smaller submarine as she fought her handlers. "Clive wasn't kidding when he said she was a foul mouth!" She muttered, trying to enjoy her salmon as she tuned out the vulgar language of her distant cousin. One would think that being raised after a 150 years would have one be more inclined to show a little gratitude at least. Gratitude was the last thing on Hunley's mind. She fought the hospital ships tooth and nail, very nearly getting in several bites as she struggled. Eventually, she was overpowered and forced to submit.

"Ah yield." She groaned. "Take meh to yer leada." "Enterprise!" called a hospital ship. The massive carrier had been waiting for her ques and she stepped forward now, her massive shadow blocking all sunlight which Hunley secretly appreciated. She preferred the darkness. "Are ya the leada?" Hunley asked. Enterprise shook her head. "No but I am fleet deputy and I'm the highest ranking officer you're gonna get this side of the country." She replied. Hunley looked around her, recognizing her home. "Ah am to presume ah lost then?" She asked. "You did." Memphis decided to speak up then. "Damn anarchists had their asses handed to them and then some. Saw it best to stay with us. Arrogant fools!" "Not helping Memphis!" Enterprise hissed. "Whatever." The submarine shrugged and turned back to her food. She'd just returned from a long patrol. Days earlier she'd witnessed Kursk die and that death weighed heavily on her. She was tired, cranky, and sad and just wanted to be left in peace. Peace which Hunley had so rudely disturbed.

The Confederate for her part had lost some of her attitude in place of shock. She was staring at the Los Angeles-class in wonder. "Is she a su'marine?" "Yes." "Duh!" "Either come over here or lock it up Memphis!" Enterprise growled. "What's got your props tangled?" The Yankee sub grumbled as she left her berth and approached the circle. Enterprise wanted to ask her that but bit her tongue. It wouldn't do to fight in front of the former Confederate. Hunley's eyes were wide. "Ya're so big." She breathed. "Hmph. Am I to presume that's a compliment?" Memphis asked. Hunley's eyes hardened and her attitude returned. "Of course not ya big fat bitch!" Memphis showed no reaction to the compliment other than a raised eyebrow. "You can do better than that, Confederate lapdog!" She shot back. "Girls, girls!" Enterprise sighed as Hunley opened her mouth to reply. Both submarines had the decency to stop their argument for the time being and focus their attention on the carrier. "Now, Hunley. As you are for lack of a better term, obsolete. You will likely be taken somewhere nearby to be converted to a museum. I'm putting Memphis in charge of your conversion and subsequent rehabilitation." **"OH** **WHAT?!"** Both submarines shouted at the same time. Enterprise glared at being interrupted but continued. "She'll catch you up to speed on the 150 years of history you've missed. Any questions you have she will answer." "What if it's classified?" Memphis asked. "Yes you will give the honest answer to those too." Enterprise replied. "But.." "Hunley is a United States Submarine, is she not?" "Well, she was Confederate when she sunk but technically since the CSA is USA now I guess..." Memphis sighed. "Good, now that's all cleared up. Give Hunley a tour before you take her to that drydock. I know she'll appreciate it." Enterprise left, leaving the two alone.

Memphis sighed and turned to Hunley who gave her a half snarl when she noticed the Los Angeles-class was looking at her. She was no stranger to cranky ships with a penitence for trying to sink her. But looking at Hunley now who was 150 years behind everyone else she began to wonder just what she'd gotten herself into!


	30. The Best of Friends: Part 2

_Two unlikely submarines, one hurting from a recent personal loss. The other, a stranger to this century, are paired together. Can Memphis and Hunley work together or will they be forever at each other's throats._

CHARLESTON BAY, AUGUST 8, 2000

Pinching her snout, the Yankee sub picked Hunley up by her midsection and helped her climb on her back. The Confederate was only 39 feet in length so it wasn't a huge problem. Hunley settled nicely on her back, head resting between her shoulder blades as she looked out over the bigger sub's head. She gasped a little in surprise when she noticed the Los Angeles-class was moving. Slowly at first but she picked up speed swiftly. Soon she was running at 14 knots. Just a simple jog, barely enough for a workout. "You're impressed." Memphis murmured beneath her. Her attention snapped back to the Yankee. "Ya're fast, Ah'll give ya that Yankee." She replied. Memphis determined that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get and merely hummed in reply.

"Look around and tell me if you recognize anything." She said. Hunley did so, her hazel eyes traveling over every inch of the massive bustling port. "The shipyards, bu' tha look like tha were modernized." "Very much so." Memphis replied. "It was known as the Charleston Navy Shipyards from 1901-1996. Since then it's been in a state of disrepair. Many of my cousins were built there in its heyday, including Skipjack and Scorpion." The sorrowful note in her voice was not lost on Hunley. It was a note she was certain her siblings and friends used when they spoke of her after she was lost. "How?" She asked now. "No one knows." Memphis' voice was tight. "Scorpion was returning home from a successful spying operation in the Med when she was sunk. Theories have ranged from a battery explosion to a Russian torp. I personally believe it was the reds. Damn commie bastards!" She hissed. Hunley didn't understand half of what Memphis just said but she did get the gist of it. "So ya and Russia wa enemies ah one point?" "Aye, fairly recently ended that conflict too. If you can call it that. No shots fired. That's why it's named the Cold War." "Ah ah see."

Finishing their tour, Memphis helped Hunley into a drydock where she would be cleaned out and refitted for museum service. "Dare ah ask bu' how did meh war end?" Hunley asked. "Civil War was never my strong point in history class but I believe it ended less than a year after you were lost. General Sherman drove the Confederates to the sea and it was like Yorktown all over again. The victory was bittersweet though." "How so?" Hunley felt she knew the answer. "Lincoln was assassinated a few days after the official surrender." Memphis replied. "Oh." Hunley looked down. She never liked the 16th president and she doubted she would now. But like any honorable warrior, she gave him the respect he was due. "Stupid question but any other wars ah should know abou'?" Hunley asked. Memphis sighed but her heavy heart lifted a bit as an idea came to her. "For that, you'll have to do what the rest of us who are too lazy to listen to teacher's lecture do." "Oh and what's that?" Hunley wasn't sure if she liked the grin that came upon Memphis' face as she replied "Bring the popcorn Hunley 'cause you're about to get a taste of 21 century pop culture! It's movie night!" With that the Los Angeles-class sailed away, snickering quietly as the Confederate cried after her "What's Popcorn and what the crab legged hell is a movie night?!"


	31. The Best of Friends: Part 3

_Two unlikely submarines, one hurting from a recent personal loss. The other, a stranger to this century, are paired together. Can Memphis and Hunley work together or will they be forever at each other's throats._

CHARLESTON BAY, AUGUST 8, 2000

Memphis returned later that evening carrying a load of small rectangular shaped boxes in her mouth. Various images covered each. She set them down. "They're called DVD's." She explained. "Now I know you had pictures at the time but these are moving pictures. Some are in color, some are not. Depends on the release dates." "Moving pictures in color..." Hunley was truly stunned. Memphis grinned. "Some are worthy of various accolades. I know I always vote at the Grammies but some people just don't appreciate the beauty of imagery." Hunley just offered a questioning shrug. She really had no idea. "You'll develop a taste for film. Everyone does." Memphis said. "First lesson of Filming 101, you must have popcorn if you're going to watch a movie. Now did you bring the popcorn?" Hunley tilted her head to the side and held up a bunch of small packets of various colors that she'd gotten off some workers when she asked what popcorn was and explained why she needed it. "Perfect!" Memphis grinned. "Now some of them should have a green and white triangle on it. Says "safe to cook with reactor". Hunley dug through her stack, eventually producing three packets and handed them to Memphis. "Thank you kindly." The submarine held them in one fin while she reached around with her other, trying to get at the hatch on her back. "Ah don't see why they call it popcorn." Hunley frowned. "It's not even corn at all. It's just seeds." "Ah, you my friend are about to see why." Memphis winked. There was a clang and Memphis grimaced only slightly as her fin pulled back, a long metal rod firmly in her grasp. She took the end of it and shoved the popcorn bags on one by one across their top like some kind of shiscobob. Hunley knew what a shiscobob was. She'd seen many at Marty Graw celebrations. Once all three were firmly in place, Memphis reached around and shoved them and the pole back down her open hatch, working it into position. "What are ya doin'?" Hunley asked. "Cooking them." Memphis replied. "How are ya..." She broke off when a loud popping sound was heard. Grinning, Memphis pulled the rod back out and the three small packets had grown into full sized bags. Memphis stifled a laugh at Hunley's shocked look. "Now ah see why its called popcorn." She said. Then she took on a more serious look. "How'd ya do that?" "Classified." Memphis replied automatically. "Ah, ah seem to recall Enterpri' sayin' sometha abou' sharin' all the secrets." Hunley tsked. "Fortunately I don't have to answer this one. Our first film will answer it for you. If that's okay." Memphis said, holding up one of the boxes. DVD's she called them. Hunley just shrugged. May as well. It'd be interesting to hear someone else's voice explain things for once. She was starting to like the Los Angeles-class well enough but listening to her voice for hours on end did get annoying after a while.

The previews rolled by and while Memphis could've fast forwarded through them she didn't. She wanted Hunley to get the full movie theater experience. The Confederate era submarine was fascinated by what she was seeing. Her eyes remained locked on the screen. When the movie actually started she gave it her undivided attention. Memphis had never seen someone so entranced by a film before. Hunley eventually looked away from the screen when she felt a nudge. She looked back at Memphis. The other submarine was holding out a bag of popcorn. "I said do you want some?" She asked. Feeling slightly embarrassed that she didn't hear Memphis before she nodded and took the bag with a quick word of thanks. Then her attention turned back to the screen. Her eyes widened slightly when she watched the nuclear explosion. ( watch?v=IKqXu-5jw60 this is the video mentioned here). Memphis, with her mouth half full of popcorn muttered "That's how I did it." Hunley spit the popcorn she was chewing and looked at her companion, the movie forgotten. At her shocked look Memphis explained. "Atomic technology has been heavily modified since then of course. This film was made in the '50s. Bunch of bull. Like a tablecloth is going to save you." Hunley looked back in time to see a bright flash and the whole picnicking family cover themselves with the cloth they were eating their food on. "And the popcorn?" The Confederate briefly believed that Memphis had poisoned her. Memphis seemed to know what Hunley was thinking for she laughed and said "You know why I asked for the bags with the green and white triangle? It's because they're the ones that can be cooked that way without any health risks. The bags are specially designed to let the heat in but keep the nasty radiation out. The label says as much." Now it made more sense to Hunley. She turned her attention back to the film. She appreciated the moving pictures but she had to agree with Memphis' earlier assessment. "And people watched this crap?" She asked. Memphis laughed. "Oh yeah all the time. Nautilus still does and gets a kick out of it! I like to think she does it just so she can bash it but to each their own." She removed the disk from the player and replaced it with a new one. "Now I think it's time for a bit more modern taste of film. I remember when this came out. People were so up in arms about it, some actually believed it really happened." "But it's pure fiction." Hunley asked. "The plot is and most of the characters but it's very accurate in its portrayal." Memphis replied as she inserted the disk and pressed play. Memphis fast forward through the opening credits this time and Hunley had no objection. She was curious to see what this film was about. As the opening credits played she payed rapt attention to the screen. Her English was a little rusty but she had just enough time to interpret the movie's title. _"The Hunt for Red October"._

"Fascinating." That was Hunley's assessment when the film ended. "Best sub film to date. Won numerous Grammies." Memphis said. "Ya keep usin' tha word. Is a Grammy some kind of award?" Hunley asked. "Oh it's more than an award. It's like a battle star for a movie. The director, the actors, even the film itself can earn some title. There's many different kinds. Best Actor, Best Writer, Best Special Effects. The list just goes on and on. People vote on them too. That's how they're won." Memphis explained. "So it's a contest then. May the best film win." Hunley asked. "Sort of yeah." Memphis agreed. It was close to one in the morning now and all the yard's lights had come on with the darkness. The change in light allowed Hunley to get a look at her friend. She noticed tear stains on Memphis' cheeks and her neon green eyes were still watery. "Somethin' wrong?" She asked. "Oh no." Memphis shook her head, looking a bit startled at being caught. Hunley's eyes narrowed. "Memphis, ah may be 150 years behind schedule but ah'm not behind enoug' to not know when someone's lyin'." She said. "Well I-I'd rather not talk about just yet." Memphis sighed. "Look, you've got a homework assignment to complete. Find me four films, each have to be of a different genre. Can be any year, can be any subject. Doesn't even have to be in color, I don't care. Just find four films you really, really wanna see and I'll see you tomorrow night okay." Seeing she wasn't going to get an answer the Confederate sighed. "Okay. Four films, got it." Memphis nodded and left, the thrum of her powerful engines leaving an echo in Hunley's ears. But the Confederate was more worried than annoyed. Just what could be bothering her friend to the point of tears?


	32. The Best of Friends: Part 4 (final part)

_Two unlikely submarines, one hurting from a recent personal loss. The other, a stranger to this century, are paired together. Can Memphis and Hunley work together or will they be forever at each other's throats._

CHARLESTON BAY AUGUST 9 2000

Memphis returned the next night, expecting to see Hunley with her four chosen films. "Did you decide what you want to see tonight?" She asked. The Confederate handed her four DVDs. Memphis looked through each. "Armageddon." She said. "Not a bad choice." Memphis eyed the second. "Under Siege. Always a good one. The Lion King you sure?" Memphis asked, holding the DVD up. Hunley shrugged. "It was either that or Fantasia. Ah settle' on somethin' a bit mah simpla." "Well okay." Memphis eyed the fourth film and immediately resolved into giggles. "What?" Hunley asked her. "I-I'm sorry Hunley but 'The Russians are Coming!'?" Memphis asked. "Somethin' wrong with it?" Hunley asked. "No, no." Memphis giggled. "But I die of laughter every time I see this." "So ah presume tha' comedy is somethin' tha's meant to make one laugh?" Hunley asked. "Yep." Memphis chuckled, her laughter dying down for now.

The other three movies went in first. Memphis wanted to maintain her dignity until the end which Hunley respected. Under Siege was a fairly good military film though she thought it could've been done better. "And most of that footage was shot on another battleship? Not Misery." She asked. "Unfortunately. Now Alabama won't shut up about it and it drives Missouri nuts!" Memphis replied.

Armageddon was next and Hunley found that the mix of science and romance sat well with her. "You seem to be developing a taste for film. That's good. Can't survive this century without it." Memphis said. "Hmph. It's full of shit but it was the 20th century so ah won't blame them." Hunley replied in a deadpan tone that sent the Los Angeles-class into fits of laughter.

The Lion King was a bit more serious than Hunley had expected from a supposedly "non serious" company. "Makes me cry every time when Mufasa dies." Memphis said and Hunley nodded her agreement, wiping away the tears from her eyes as the fourth and final DVD of the night was put in.

The first five minutes of the film, Hunley had to work to keep quiet. By the 15 minute mark she found that was impossible. By the 30 minute mark, the film not even being halfway through the Confederate submarine was trying hard to get decent enough breaths as she giggled continuously. Memphis was not immune and she too dissolved into fits of laughter. Both submarines were left clutching their sides numerous times.

After one instance, Memphis had a chance to catch her breath as a scene shifted to be more romantic. "Do you know how long it's been since I've laughed?" She asked breathlessly. Hunley looked at her and Memphis bit her lip, fins twitching as she thought really hard about how she was going to phrase this. "Have you heard of Kursk?" She asked. Hunley nodded. "Workman won't stop talking about her, the poor thing. Torpedo explosion was it?" She asked and was surprised when Memphis shook her head and whispered so quietly that Hunley had to strain to hear. "I-I killed her." The Los Angeles-class whispered. "She collided with my keel and I-I killed her. I couldn't do anything to help." "Memphis, 'twas an accident. Ah know ya didn't mean to ram her intentionally." Hunley said as she tried to comfort her friend. "I shouldn't have been there in the first place! The Cold War's over, I knew better than to go spying on Russian naval activities!" Memphis scolded herself. "She was my friend! My best friend and I..." Hunley rested her bow over Memphis' back, her diving planes working to pull the larger submarine to her. Memphis buried her bow in Hunley's side as she let her pain flow out of her. "It's alright. It's alright." She whispered.

After a few minutes Memphis calmed down enough to settle back in her spot. Wiping her eyes dry she murmured "Thanks". Hunley licked the top of her head. "Anytime kiddo." "I'm 24 years old, I'm not a kid." Memphis sniffled. "And ah'm 136." Hunley countered. Memphis chuckled. "You don't look a day over 3." She said. "And ya don' look a day o'er 12." Hunley replied and Memphis laughed. "Thanks Hunley, I needed that." She said. "Ah shucks kid ya're gonna ruin my reputation." Hunley snorted. "Too late for that I think." Memphis chuckled and ducked as Hunley took a playful swipe at her.

The two settled back in their spots in time to watch the scene shift to a more amusing tone. The two were soon laughing again, the sound echoing across the harbor. As Enterprise sailed by she couldn't help but smile as she watched the pair, Memphis leaning into Hunley as she laughed and Hunley leaning back likewise. The carrier knew about Kursk. Even if Memphis hadn't screamed the Soviet's name in her sleep she'd have known something was wrong. It was good to hear Memphis laugh again. The submarine had been so sad lately. Enterprise was glad she'd found a friend.

As she sailed off for her berth she took one glance behind her seeing the pair outlined against the light of the tv screen. She could see them side by side with their hulls gently touching, fins clasped together in friendship.

THE END


	33. The Impossible Choice

BREMERTON WASHINGTON MAY 20 1993

It was as though the weather itself had turned sorrowful, as though it knew what this day would hold. At the far end of the harbor, isolated from the countless destroyers and submarines laid up, a big battleship sat at her moorings. She was docked between two of her siblings both older than her. Missouri could see Iowa to her left, fast asleep. New Jersey was to her right, head swiveled about to watch their eldest sibling closely. When Iowa had come in here two years earlier, the wound on her turret had not been repaired. New Jersey had done her best to use what herbs she could but the wound stubbornly refused to heal. So the fleet's healer had taken up constant vigilance on it for any sign of infection. In this wet climate, gangrene was a real concern.

Missouri sighed, turning to her sister. "You know you should get some rest sometime right?" She asked. "Spare me Missouri." New Jersey snorted. Missouri sighed. "I'm awake now, I can watch Iowa." She said. "You can." New Jersey agreed. "But you don't have the medical skill to help her should something go wrong." "New Jersey if something hasn't gone wrong by now after _2 years_ then what are the chances it ever will?" Missouri growled. "Well, there's always a chance..." New Jersey tried though with significantly less force. Missouri smiled. "Get some rest sis." She said. "How can I with this constant rain?!" New Jersey complained. "It's Vietnam all over again!" Missouri chuckled. "Welcome to the Pacific Northwest New Jersey." She said.

New Jersey was still grumbling when the two battleships heard a commotion at the far end of the docks. Just as Missouri was turning to check it out a small Penguin-class rescue ship charged in. It took Missouri a moment to filter through that heavy accent that Skylark had adopted to hear what she was saying. "Senhora, Senhora." She panted. "Problema nas docas de submarinos." Missouri winced. "First off Skylark English please. Second off, slow down and take a breath first." She said. She could understand Skylark just fine. Her years in foreign countries served her well but New Jersey did not know enough Portuguese to understand. Skylark gave herself a moment, breathing deep before saying slowly "Problem at the sub docks madam." "Define problem." Missouri said. The pain in Skylark's eyes told the flagship all she needed to know and she pushed past Skylark on her way out. "Big J you coming?" She asked. "Don't call me Big J!" New Jersey hissed as she fell in behind her sister. Skylark turned and followed, taking over the lead as she guided the pair to a particular dock in the submarine section of the harbor.

Since the early 70s these docks and ones just like it on the east coast had been used to take in the unfortunate submarines who were either too old, too ill, or too injured to continue active service. Missouri had eyes for only one, the reason behind Skylark's pain. The Penguin-class had good reason for it. 30 years ago, she'd watched helplessly as a submarine died in front of her. Now she was witnessing the same thing again, from a submarine who was the immediate sister of the one she'd watched perish all those years ago.

When Permit had arrived here 2 years ago on account of a respiratory ailment Missouri had been less than hopeful. The cold, wet environment was no good place to try and ease a cough. But somehow Permit held on, determined to fight it missile and torp. New Jersey had helped, giving her every herb she could think of to ease that awful illness. But nothing could be done. It was discovered less than 7 months after she'd first arrived that Permit's days were numbered. Tumors were found growing in the submarine's lungs and they had spread quite rapidly, entering the bloodstream and attaching themselves to various vital components such as the submarine's spine and rib cage. Permit was given 3 years to live but looking at her now, Missouri would be surprised if she survived the night. When it was first discovered Permit had terminal cancer the navy had wanted to put her down immediately. But they decided that as long as the submarine didn't feel pain, she would be left alone.

Now Permit was in obvious distress. She lay on her side against the dock, fins twitching as her body shook uncontrollably. Her teeth were bared past the gum line from the pain, her eyes squeezed tightly shut though tears could be seen running from them. Missouri touched her prow to her flank. The contact earned her a fierce squeal and a fin slap across the nose. Missouri pulled back, surprised. "That. Hurt." Permit panted through clenched teeth. Missouri bowed her head, ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry." She said. The submarine's eyes were still closed and silently, Missouri signaled New Jersey. The healer stiffened and for a moment Missouri thought she would have to argue with her but New Jersey nodded and quietly began filling a syringe and needle with anesthesia.

Missouri turned her attention back to the submarine. Permit was still shaking but it had lessened some. "M-Missouri are you still there?" She asked. Missouri was extra gentle this time as she licked the submarine's silver muzzle. "I'm here Permit." Permit swallowed hard before speaking "Release me Missouri. Release me so I can join the Ancients with my sister." It was a well known fact that the navy never decommissioned Thresher but Missouri had gotten her name stricken from the register, effectively allowing her spirit to be free to join the Ancients. Permit was asking for the same courtesy. Decommissioning a ship was hard enough, but striking them was something that Missouri had and always would despise. "Permit, do you know what you're asking me to do?" She asked, her voice hard. By striking them, Missouri would effectively cut off their ability to communicate directly with the fleet. All Ancients had the ability to sail in ships dreams but if they were stricken, that ability to speak with their comrades was blocked for 7 years according to the rules laid down at the first Illustris.

"I know." Permit murmured now. "Please Missouri." Missouri shook her head. "I can't do that." She replied. "You're already free. You've been decommissioned. I cannot in good conscience shackle your abilities as an Ancient as well." "Then you will deny me my sister for 7 years." Permit said. Ah yes, that was the downside to those contracts wasn't it. As the lead boat of her class, Thresher's wish to be stricken had to be followed as much as Missouri hated it. But if Permit was not given the same thing, the rules that applied the the living ships also applied in the Ancients as well. Though dead, Permit could not be with her sister for that seven years when that contract ended. Missouri looked down at the submarine, eyes wide and pleading. "Permit I..." Missouri was cut off as New Jersey came forward, gently injecting the anesthesia into Permit's shoulder. The submarine sighed, rolling against Missouri as she grew sleepy. Missouri had less than a minute to decide. Should she approve Permit's request and have the fleet be forced to go without her valuable intel for 7 years. Or should she deny it and keep the old submarine separated from her beloved sister for 7 years. It was an impossible choice, with both outcomes wrong in their own way. But that was the burden of a leader and sometimes these decisions were ones Missouri had to make on her own.

It went against everything she'd ever been taught. It could compromise her fleet's safety but she couldn't not do it without compromising her morals and that was one thing, despite everything, that she would never compromise on. The battleship brushed her bow across Permit's head, a single tear slipping through her control. Missouri let it fall, landing on the submarine's black hull with a "plink". "I release you." She whispered just as the submarine's last breath was let go.

A light breeze stirred up and briefly Missouri could feel the warm rays of the sun pierce through the ever present clouds. Behind her, New Jersey gasped. "Missouri, look." Missouri followed her sister's gaze to see what she was looking at and she too gasped in shock. Outlined against the horizon and shimmering in the suns' raise were the Thresher-class submarines. Missouri's gaze traveled down the line and her heart gave a twinge at each face.

"Haddock." New Jersey whispered. Haddock, the kind hearted warrior who was one of New Jersey's best apprentices. Haddock smiled at her former mentor now.

"Flasher." Missouri murmured. Flasher, the snappy old grump who always had a good story to tell. Flasher offered a mock snarl which dissolved into a grin.

"Guardfish." New Jersey said and Missouri winced at the pain in her voice. Her sister had never forgiven herself for failing to save the old submarine. Guardfish, the stubborn fighter who refused to give up. Fighting her bronchitis to the end. Guardfish showed no trace of her illness now, her beautiful laugh sounding in the healer's ears.

"Tinosa." Missouri said. Tinosa, the good scientist who always had some crazy experiment going. Tinosa smirked, offering her flagship a wink.

"Jack." New Jersey whispered. Jack, who was wise beyond her years. A gentle, loving smile was what she offered now.

"Haddo." Missouri sighed. Haddo, with her long sharp tongue that Missouri knew to stay clear of. She stuck that tongue at Missouri now before her humor got the better of her. Missouri laughed with her.

"Pollack." New Jersey said. Pollack, who was brave beyond expectations as she worked with a weak heart all her life. She offered the battleships a warm smile now.

"Permit." Missouri couldn't keep the pain out of her voice. Permit, a dear friend to all who knew her. The old submarine didn't look like the frail, weak object lying limp at Missouri's side. This was Permit at the height of her youth, the sparkle in her eyes at full strength. She gave her leader a sad smile. She didn't say anything but the message was clear. _"I'll miss you."_

And "Thresher". New Jersey whispered in awe. Thresher, the greatest submarine of her time. She was leaning against Permit who leaned back, the siblings so close it was nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other. Thresher met Missouri's gaze and raised her right fin in salute, her siblings copying her one by one. And one by one they faded from sight.

Once there were 14 of these submarines patrolling the world's oceans, proudly bearing America's Old Glory. Now there were only 5 and those 5 would see their own ends in the next 2-3 years. It would hurt Missouri, divide her already divided heart even more. But these submarines deserved to be together. They had served their country with distinction and it was the least the battleship could offer in return.

It would be difficult for her, Missouri knew that. But when it came their time Gato, Greenling, Dace, Barb, and Plunger all would be stricken, their spirits reunited with their siblings as they sailed silently across the sea of stars for eternity.


	34. Remember the SSN-637

Sturgeon was in a bad mood. The navy had ordered her to Annapolis to play host to a bunch of midshipman. You'd think that would be a good thing right? To be the navy's recruiting ship? Guess again. The submarine swore she'd swallowed some sea butterflies along the way, her stomach was in knots and she was perspiring buckets! Oh she hated the public relations gig. All submarines did. They were a very different breed than the surface ships.

While surface ships enjoyed a rigorous and structured chain of command where everyone stuck to rank like it was gospel, submarines were all equal as far as they were concerned. Didn't matter if the ship was a greenfin or the operational commander. They all addressed each other by their names, not their ranks. So when the midshipman came aboard, it was a bit of a culture shock for Sturgeon.

The submarine lay anchored in the middle of the Chesapeake because there were no good anchorages for a ship her size at Annapolis. No shore power either so the sub sat with her reactor critical the whole time and she was getting impatient. At last the first load of midshipman came up in the small boat that ferried them out from the Academy. As they got within a ship's length they all saluted and it took Sturgeon a moment to realize they were saluting her. They were actually saluting _her?!_ Submarines never got saluted. They, when they came in contact with surface ships, did the saluting. They tended to hold the lowest ranks, did the lowliest and most dangerous jobs and were just all around the lowest of the low. So to have someone actually salute her for a change, well Sturgeon wouldn't deny it was a bit of a shock but she wasn't going to turn it down either. She held it for a bit longer than necessary, savoring the moment before cutting and allowing the midshipman to come on board. Yes, her crew had to give these boys tours and yes Sturgeon had to behave herself. No funny business though the sub could think of a few pranks she could pull on these boys.

She must've had maybe five groups of boys that day and by the time the tours were over with the sub was all jitters though emotionally drained. Her crew felt the same way. "Academy's invited us ashore tonight. It'll be good to unwind." Her captain told her, giving her sail a pat. Sturgeon purred at the contact before replying "I look forward to it."

A week later, Sturgeon sailed into Norfolk Virginia having been ordered there at once. The submarine had to leave her patrol area to come down there so she was wondering what was going on. She found out soon enough.

As soon as she saw USS Enterprise she knew she was in for it. The US Navy's second in command was unmistakable when you saw her. Every submarine knew and dreaded that outline for the only time Enterprise ever entered a submarine's base was when she was there to enforce navy discipline on the black boats. Sturgeon cast an eye on the group of Permit-class submarines, including Permit herself, who were all huddled back in one little dock as far away from Enterprise as possible. Good thing too for Enterprise looked mad. Her entire hull was tense and she could've been shooting steam from her nostrils if she could. After shooting a glare cold enough to freeze an ocean at an unfortunate tug that crossed her path she straightened to address Sturgeon in a manner not at all friendly.

Voice dangerously low, the carrier growled "Do you recognize this?" She shoved a photograph in the sub's face and Sturgeon went cross-eyed as she examined it. "Um..." She stammered. It was of the Academy's main building only instead of the pristine white that coated it year round, ugly black paint marred its otherwise perfect features. The black paint spelled out in no small detail "637 here, suck my *****" Sturgeon honestly didn't recall much of her time at the Academy. She wasn't sober enough to recall much more than a blur. Submarines were probably the most professional and cool-headed ships in the navy. But give them time ashore and they would find some way to cause trouble. Usually their curiosity and sense of good fun were the culprits. They had a nose for mischief and they sometimes followed a trail a bit to far with it. This was one of those times. Gulping, Sturgeon bravely looked up at her deputy. "I can't explain it ma'am. I do not remember such a thing taking place." That was truth and Sturgeon prayed that Enterprise realized that. The carrier was not appeased. "If you can't explain it, then let me refresh your memory."

So much for avoiding a lecture. Sturgeon stifled back a groan. "You go ashore with your crew, hoping to relax and let loose a bit after a long day of babysitting midshipman. No easy task I know but still no excuse to get so fucking stoned that you painted a "welcome message" on the main Academy building." Enterprise hissed. "You're in violation of several articles of the UCMJ including willful disregard for military properly, misconduct unbecoming a naval officer, and willful disobedience of orders. Those orders being the standing rules for submarines at the Academy. Now before I place you under arrest, what do you have to say for yourself?" No amount of pleading or begging or any kind of sob story Sturgeon could fabricate would work. Enterprise was just too good at her job for that. So instead, the submarine opted for the one thing besides silence that might earn her a bit of a looser hand. "Well, at least the academy won't be quick in forgetting me." She tried with a grin. Enterprise scowled and Sturgeon quickly realized that maybe it would've been better to have stayed silent!


	35. Heart of a Mac Truck, Soul of a 57 Chevy

Though it'd happened too many times to count, Seawolf still snarled when the rotten tomato hit her hull. It was part of every day life for her at Mare Island. The old sub tried not to let it get to her. At 25 years of age, she was getting too old to fight over petty things. She needed to conserve her strength for the bigger fish, namely the Soviets.

Seawolf had returned from a wire tapping mission nearly a month ago. Such trips were hard on her and she was only just now feeling well enough to leave her berth and wonder around town. But of course people had to spoil her fun! Giving the teenagers a withering glare, she made her way back to the docks. She hadn't wondered far off base, maybe a 1/4 mile but it was far enough for today. Food projectiles aside she wasn't fit enough for a long jaunt. Lumbering her way back to her berth she slipped into the water with a grace that one would never think a submarine of her age would have. She took the time to lick her hull clean, wincing at the foul tang of the rotten fruit. She snorted air in clouds of mists, filling her lungs before she dropped down beneath the surface, settling on the harbor bottom. Most submarines slept submerged as the cool water helped to keep them relaxed and their reactors cool.

Seawolf tended to be a light sleeper so she was surprised when she woke after an uninterrupted night, sunlight already filtering through the water to reach her. Blowing ballast she broached, her black head above water. She spotted her breakfast lying on the dock and taking a moment to sniff it for any poison she tucked in, biscuits first. Pausing momentarily to take a sip of her still warm coffee she checked the time. 09:00. She winced. She couldn't recall the last time she'd slept so late.

Finishing her breakfast the submarine left her berth on her morning cruise. It was a quick lap around the harbor, just enough for her to work out any cramps she might've gained the previous night. In her younger days, Seawolf would complete this in well under an hour. Today, she was struggling to get it done before noon. She partly blamed her wavering health, a notion supported by hacking cough that plagued her that morning.

Finally completing her workout, the old submarine returned to her berth. She was still tired from yesterday's jaunt and the effort of clearing her lungs only made it worse. The midday sun warmed the chill in her old bones and Seawolf allowed herself to relax. Parche came into port an hour later, her sail adorned with the latest Presidential Unit she had earned on her last mission. "Hey, it's the Pier Puppy." She greeted as she docked along side. Eyes closed, Seawolf muttered "Very funny." She was no stranger to Parche's teasing. The younger submarine had taken over most of her wire tapping missions with the two occasionally trading off. This working relationship had Parche stick to Seawolf like a student would a mentor. But that didn't stop her from teasing the old sub.

"What, no hello, nice to see you?" Parche gave a pout. "Well maybe if you offered a proper greeting instead of starting off teasing me then I might be more inclined to say hello." Seawolf replied. Parche huffed. "Fine. Good afternoon Seawolf." She said. Now at this Seawolf smiled, turning to face Parche. "Good afternoon Parche." She replied, added sweetness in her voice. "I see you got another Presidential Unit, congratulations." "Thank you. I don't know how I keep getting them though. Flasher won't stop asking either way." Parche replied. Seawolf barked a laugh. "You earn 'em because you deserve 'em kiddo." She replied. "Nothing deserving about spying." Parche snorted. "Don't let Sturgeon hear you say that. She'd throw a fit!" Seawolf said. Parche's class pathfinder was all business when it came to spying. She believed it to be the future of modern warfare and wouldn't hear a word otherwise. "She'd just as soon hang me on a wire by my props and have Soviets throw pies in my face." Parche chuckled. "You are so dramatic." Seawolf said in a deadpan voice that had both subs laughing hard.

Seawolf's laughs were cut short by her coughs. Parche looked at her with concern. "Seawolf, are you alright?" She asked. Seawolf turned away from her, hemming and hawing as she coughed up oily mucus. Eventually her coughs subsided though she still kept her back to her friend. Parche poked her. "Seawolf?" A sigh. "What is it Parche?" Parche nuzzled her flank feeling Seawolf shift, her muzzle brushing the younger sub's starboard side. "You know me Parche." She murmured. "I'll be over this by the next day." "I hope so." Parche replied sincerely. "Your next mission is in a week and you can't do it ill." "I'll be fine." Seawolf assured and Parche prayed she was right.

Seawolf set out to sea on Friday, leaving Mare Island for the navy town of Bremerton, Washington to test out the equipment she'd gained for her top secret wire tapping mission. On the way there, she suffered a fire in her engine room. Not the first fire she had but definitely a bad one. It certainly didn't help her ailing lungs that was for sure. She broached the surface in a coughing fit, smoke inhalation taking its toll. Barely coherent, her crew had to guide her into port.

New Jersey was quick on the scene, shoving an inhaler into Seawolf's mouth. She helped the submarine hold it for a few seconds before turning her attention to her burns. "How bad is it?" Seawolf panted once she could speak again. She'd spent so much time under New Jersey's care that she knew almost as much about healing as the healer herself did. "The fire itself caused only localized damage but considering where it was at." New Jersey paused and sighed. "Your airways will be clogged with soot for a while so don't be surprised if you start barfing tar. Your burns will heal the quickest, it's your lungs I'm the most concerned about." "I already know they're fragile. I was just getting over an infection." Seawolf growled, her head dropping as she coughed. "Easy." New Jersey rubbed her back, pushing the inhaler back into her mouth. "Keep breathing that medicine in." Eyes slipping closed Seawolf did so, grimacing as New Jersey put a cold, strong smelling minty salve on her chest and massaged it in. "I want you here for at least a week and that means in this berth for a week. No where else. Your lungs are badly inflamed and they need time to heal." She growled. Seawolf groaned to herself but she knew the healer was right so she agreed.

She wasn't going to make her mission deadline now so Parche took over. The young submarine took it in stride. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that she had to cover for her friend. She joined Seawolf in Bremerton to get the final details of her mission. Usually, Parche would see this as the prime time to tease Seawolf but this time she looked more concerned than anything else. "I'm sure everyone else has told you this already but I'm gonna say it anyways. You look awful Seawolf." "I'm better than I look." Seawolf snorted, trying to put on a brave face. The look on Parche's face told her she wasn't fooled for a second. "You need rest." "No really, I'm fine." Seawolf insisted, rising. Her bones in her right shoulder protested as the ground against one another and briefly the old sub's face contorted in pain and she staggered a bit. Seeing this, Parche nudged her back down. "You'll be fine if you relax." She said in a tone that demanded no argument. Seawolf merely offered a sigh, doing as she was told. She felt Parche lick the back of her head. "Good luck." She murmured. Parche gave her fin a squeeze. "Be back soon." She promised and then she was gone, leaving Seawolf to say her prayers and feel the regret over failing her mission.

It was another half year before Seawolf was declared "fit" for her next mission, another wire tapping jaunt in the Arctic. The old submarine backed out of her berth with her usual grace. Parche was in the berth next door and she turned to see her friend out. "Good luck, Seawolf." She said. "Thanks. I'll bring you back a souvenir, shall I?" Seawolf grinned. Her engines were old but they were powerful enough to get her out of the harbor and onto the horizon quickly. Parche watched her go. "Be safe." She murmured.

Once clear of Puget Sound, Seawolf filled her lungs with fresh air and dove. She leveled off at 400 feet and kept that depth the whole way across the Pacific. Once she could've made the journey in less than 3 days. Now it took her almost a week to reach her mission area. The reason being that traveling any faster than 10 knots would ensure she would be detected. She still had the "heart of a mac truck" but her hull would always disagree. Now came the hardest and most dangerous part of the mission. Submarines were designed to swim through the water, not rest on the ocean floor. But resting is exactly what Seawolf would have to do. The water was very shallow here, only 450 feet at most. Seawolf had special kegs attached to the underside of her hull which would allow her to perch rather than sit in the mud. She took on more ballast to drop down but she took it on two quickly and began a steep dive nose first. It took all her skill to pull herself up out of the dive and land level. She hissed as one of her kegs hit the cable anchor and snapped off. For several tense minutes she feared the Soviets had heard her but when no sign of a surface or subsurface ship appeared she relaxed. The SEAls exited through the hatch and and began their work on the cable, assisted by the ROVs. Seawolf carried four ROVS. Deep Throat, Happy Hooker, Hawkeye, and Shortime. Deep Throat and Hawkeye were the two that went out today. The current was strong down here and Seawolf had to work hard to maintain her position on the bottom and keep the ROV's tethers clear of her prop. At first, the submarine was unconcerned. Underwater currents were common place, their severity dependent upon surface conditions. But as the currents grew stronger, she began to grow concerned. A SEAL nearly getting crushed by one of her kegs as she was rocked back and forth forced her hand. She called everyone back inside and got the ROVs reattached to her back. "Okay, let's get out of this fucking hellhole." She growled and turned to go.

Only she couldn't. The constant rocking from the currents had driven her kegs deep into the mud, up to their hilts so she really was resting on the bottom. Growling, Seawolf struggled to pull herself free, her fins kicking up a swirl of sediments. Eventually, she gave up. "It's no use." She panted. "I'm as stuck as baked on eggs to a pan." She sighed. Deep Throat and Happy Hooker wailed. Hawkeye looked worried. Shortime however spoke up. "You can't give up Seawolf. The navy needs our information and think of Parche. How will she feel if you die now?" Only the ROVs knew of Seawolf's true feelings. She loved Parche dearly. It was the thought of her that always seemed to give Seawolf that extra bit of push she needed to force her way through her arthritis and do her job. Seawolf gave a whimper now. True, she wanted to see Parche again. She couldn't imagine not seeing her. And the younger submarine would be hurt by her loss. Seawolf doubted she felt the same but she did care, that much was obvious. Determination marking her voice, Seawolf growled "I'll try again." Eyes narrowed, jaw set she put every ounce of muscle into pulling herself free. Her engine was designed to go past its redline for long periods of time, a feature unique only to her. As the dockworkers always said, she had the "heart of a Mac Truck and the soul of a '57 Chevy." Seawolf had pushed her engine hard before but she'd never asked this much out of it and most certainly not under these conditions. The mud held her fast, its suction ensuring she stayed firmly in place. Even the current was working against her, swirling about as it struck her bow on, further hampering her efforts. The old submarine was tiring fast but she refused to admit defeat. She pushed her engine even harder. If there wasn't a pair of hurricanes swirling 450 feet above her it was certain the Russians would've heard and come investigating by now. She wasn't exactly quite when she put this many RPMs through her aging 5SW. She felt the kegs give a little but didn't pause to cheer. She'd celebrate when she was free, not a moment before. Her reactor was pumping fresh uranium ore into her bloodstream at the inhuman rate of 65 bpm*. Her engine was running at 210% power. Seawolf's hull, even underwater, shimmered with sweat as her temperature rose. The buildup of lactic acid in her muscles nearly made her quit but still she pushed on. The kegs gave another inch and mentally Seawolf applauded herself. _"Just a little more."_ She thought. One more good pull and she would be free. Her nose was bleeding as blood vessels close to her heart burst.

Drawing on what had to be sheer willpower, Seawolf freed the last keg and immediately blew her ballast. She broached the surface, her exhausted lungs breathing in the open air gratefully. All she wanted to do was rest, she was so very tired but that was the last thing she could afford to do. The storm was dying down and already Seawolf's radar detected Soviet ships coming out to investigate the disturbance she'd caused. With one fin pinching her nose shut to stem the flow of blood, she tossed an acoustic device into the water behind her with the other. It was designed to match her signature and by sheer luck the Soviets fell for it, diverting their course to the Southwest. Seawolf breathed a sigh of relief and turned her bow for home.

She returned to base with little fanfare as was expected for a submarine on a top secret mission. The brass however were not interested in her near death experience, nor her gutsy escape. They were furious that she had "messed up", leaving a keg behind to mark her presence and perhaps the presence of all US subs in the area. Parche had heard of Seawolf's harrowing mission and immediately raced to Bremerton to see her friend. She found Seawolf at her berth and looking quite sullen as she was dressed down by the SUBCOM commander. "Your foolishness may've just cost us this entire operation!" The Admiral was saying. "You may as well burn the disks, they're useless now that the Soviets know what we're doing." Seawolf bowed her head, wisely saying nothing. Parche however did not have her patience or her finesse. "Why don't you just leave her alone?!" She snarled. "Seawolf nearly died trying to get those disks. She shouldn't even be doing these missions! At her age, it would've been wise to have her transferred years ago. But she still does 'em. She's 25 years old you bastard! That's 80 in your years. You're likely to retire before you're 60. To do what she does at her age takes commitment and heart! She deserves a Presidential Unit after what she's been through! Have some respect!" Parche was ready to continue her rant when she felt a cold nose press against her flank. Startled, she turned to look at Seawolf. The older submarine looked surprised by her outburst but her eyes showed her gratitude. "Parche, that's enough." She murmured softly. Parche nodded and fell silent. The Admiral was stunned but quickly recovered. "You'll have my report by tomorrow." He said and left.

Once he was gone, Parche turned her attention back to Seawolf, the compassion in her eyes replaced with anger. "You are a foolish, irresponsible pup!" She growled. "Yep." Seawolf agreed. "Jamming your bow in the ocean floor during not one, but two hurricanes? I've never seen such recklessness!" Parche scolded. "Yep." Seawolf said again, her eyes twinkling with amusement. And damn her if Parche hadn't heard laughter in her tone. Her emotions swung from anger, to relief, to love, to anger again. It was so confusing and Parche didn't know how to deal with it. Before she could even think about what she might be doing or what repercussions her action might have, she smashed her lips against Seawolf's. The older submarine stiffened with surprise but it only lasted for a heart beat before she found herself kissing Parche back, desperate lips moving aerobically as their tongues entwined and fins gripped each other's backs.

...

6 YEARS LATER

Parche knew something was off the moment she woke. Her windward side felt cold and when she turned to look she saw why. Seawolf, her mate of 6 years, was gone. It wasn't the first time that Seawolf had left before she woke. Sometimes the old submarine had a mission she either forgot to tell or couldn't tell Parche about. Usually Parche could tell if this was the case and calling up her memories of the previous night, she could recall no sign of some secret mission. Frowning, Parche left their berth to see if another ship had seen Seawolf leave port. This was a military base, there was always someone on station so someone had to have seen her. New Jersey was last night's guard and she was just returning to her berth when Parche approached. "Did you see Seawolf leave last night?" She asked. New Jersey shook her head. "I saw several subs leave but none included Seawolf." She replied. "Why, is she missing?" "Yeah, I woke up and I couldn't find her. I figured maybe she'd gone out during the night." Parche said. "Have you checked by the hangers?" New Jersey asked. "That was my first stop. No sign of her." Parche replied. "Hmm. Could be she never left the berth. Seawolf sometimes sleeps underwater when she's really tired." New Jersey said. "I didn't think of that." Parche mused. "She's probably awake by now and wondering where I'm at. Thanks, Big J." She sailed off, laughing at New Jersey's cry of "My name is not Big J!"

The Sturgeon-class submarine returned to her berth. Still no sign of Seawolf. Following New Jersey's advice, Parche took a dive and sure enough there was her mate resting on the bottom. Parche chuckled. Seawolf wasn't prone to sleeping in very often, usually only when she was very, very tired. Last night's activities may've had something to do with her exhaustion. Smiling, Parche came down to rest beside her giving her a nudge. "Time to wake up sleepybow." She teased. Seawolf didn't even grunt when Parche nudged her. Parche rolled her eyes. "Seawolf, come onnnnnn!" She whined. "I don't have all day!" This time she got a hint of a response. Seawolf's starboard fin twitched slightly and she mumbled something that Parche couldn't understand. "Come again?" The Sturgeon-class asked. Seawolf appeared to struggle to speak clearly. She managed "Stay with me." Parche squeezed her fin. "Of course." She replied. The two subs blew their ballast and came to the surface. Parche helped Seawolf to the pier and the older submarine laid her head on the warm black surface. Parche rested beside her, licking the back of her head soothingly. Seawolf managed a shaky purr before she drifted off again. Parche sighed, forcing back her concern. Maybe Seawolf had gone on a mission during the night. Parche was known for being a deep sleeper and she easily could've missed when her mate left. Sighing again, she snuggled close to the elder, resting her head over her flank. The warm sun was soothing as its warm gentle rays, not harsh this time of year, hit her hull. Lulled by that warmth, Parche's green eyes closed. _"Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt."_ She thought as she yawned.

When she woke next it was late afternoon and the sun was hidden behind the clouds. Shivering at the sudden cold Parche raised her head in a huge yawn. She didn't realize what was off until she was more alert. Her lack of dizziness suggested her head hadn't been moving while she was asleep, which meant that Seawolf must have stopped breathing. As soon as this realization hit her, all of Parche's attention was on her mate. Seawolf's flanks were still. Not an immediate concern as it was common for subs to hold their breath when they slept. Just to be on the safe side though Parche pressed a fin to her mate's throat as she checked for a pulse. She frowned when she detected nothing. She tried again, adjusting her position several times in the hopes she was just poking the wrong patch of hull. She got the same results. Now her fear began to grow. "Seawolf?" She hissed, nudging her. "Seawolf wake up?!" Getting no response from her mate Parche wailed for the only ship who could help. "NEW JERSEY!"

New Jersey heard Parche's cry and was there within 2 minutes. "She won't wake up, Big J. She won't wake up!" New Jersey forced her way past the distraught submarine as she checked Seawolf. First she did the same pulse check that Parche had done. Then she physically lifted Seawolf's head up, pressing her ear to her chest. Her head was turned away from Parche so the sub could not see her green eyes darken and a single tear fall from one of them. Slowly, she set Seawolf's body down and turned back to her mate. Parche's own green eyes were dark as the truth dawned on her. In a shaky voice she rasped "She's dead, isn't she?" This was the one thing about being a healer that New Jersey despised. No matter how many times she did it, telling a ship their loved one was dead never got any easier. She met Parche's gaze, feeling her throat constrict as she uttered the word "Yes." Parche rushed past her to her mate, placing both fins on her, one on her snout and one her flank. She tipped her head back and a keening sound issued from her throat. Every submarine in the harbor joined in as the Death Call was sounded.

Parche lowered her head when done, her starboard fin moving to grasp her mate's. She gave it a gentle squeeze. "Talo, mi coronizate." **

...

* Submarine's hearts work in the same range as a whales, between 20 and 30 bpm's normally with an anaerobic range of 35-58. Anything beyond that is getting into the danger zone.

** Goodbye, my darling.


	36. A New Home: Part 1

_"Will you fire Colorado?"_

 _"With evidence suggesting that Washington DC is still in existence, no I will not sir."_

 _"Then you leave me no choice."_

 _"Missile inbound!"_

 _"Dive Colorado dive!"_

 _"100 yards and closing."_

 _"WE'RE GONNA HIT THE OCEAN FLOOR!"_

 _"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"_

"Gah!" Colorado jumped forward, her fins landing on soft warm sand. After a few harsh pants she remembered where she was. The small island of Saint Martie was, until recently, just a NATO warning station. Now, it was a haven for her and all the little boats that lived here. Though she enjoyed the tropical island as much as the next boat would the fact that her own fleet had tried to kill her still haunted her. It was common for submarines, even in the service, to fight for dominance. Indeed, her hull bore the scars of such battles. But never try to kill. There was too much mutual respect between fighters for that. Whoever fired the missile at her, was without honor just as Colorado had come to find her government wasn't either.

She was American by birth, but being betrayed by one's country can change things for you. She considered herself to be nationless, a rogue, a pirate. The only home she had now was this little island. And the small boats around her were her fleet. She had to protect them. There was a stirring beside her and Colorado gently slipped back down into the berth before her little half excursion could be noticed. L'iana was a small fishing trawler, even in comparison to most of the boats here, but she lead the flotilla before the Ohio-class' arrival. She'd turned the title over to Colorado then though the submarine insisted upon otherwise. She was here to spare herself and her crew from a government conspiracy, not to annex an island. Her protests fell on deaf ears and she found herself as flagship of 50 boats ranging in size from zodiacs to large longliners. They were free to come and go as they pleased, she doubted that the US Navy would harm civilians. She turned back to L'iana as the little trawler snuggled into her side. Gently, she pressed her muzzle to her deck. L'iana had not just given her the title of flagship, a post that most submarines would never see, she had also won the big boomer's heart. Not the Colorado minded. L'iana was so much smaller than her that one wrong move could... well that's why the pair had agreed without saying to restrict their relationship solely to business with the occasional kiss or snuggle. They were pushing that established envelope now. The fleet didn't know and Ohio hoped to keep it that way which is why at the crack of dawn the submarine wriggled her way quietly out of the berth and into the harbor in time to watch the fishing boats return from an overnight jaunt. Part of their daily routine. Everyone's schedule had been stretched thanks to Ohio's arrival. She'd brought 150 extra mouths to feed. The sub herself could forgo any traditional food. She had enough Uranium in her reactor to last her another few months. No need to burden down the already strained resources with the amount of food it would take to keep her going.

"Don't tell me you stayed up all night waiting for us." Blinka, a longliner, said as she passed by. "Hardly." Colorado yawned. "Contrary to your belief submarines do sleep. Once in a while." She snorted. "You heading out?" She asked. "As soon as you're all back in, yeah." Colorado replied. Blinka shifted in a manner which Colorado had come to recognize as _"I wanna tell you something but I can't because it would break propriety"_. Funny how these little rascals had come to care about propriety since she arrived her. Though the hatches on her back and the doors on her bow told Colorado exactly why. "Go ahead and say it kiddo." She murmured. "Well, when you're out maybe you could try and catch something. We didn't do so good on our runs." "Me, hunt?" Colorado asked. "That is only if you want to. You don't have to do it. I shouldn't have asked." Blinka sighed. "No, you should always tell me when you have a problem." Colorado assured, cupping her fin and licking the top of her head. "I'll see what I can find. Could be the fish are just hanging deep, a problem for you but not so for me. I'll come back with something, I promise you that." She headed out. "Good hunting!" Blinka called after her and Colorado flicked her rudder in reply.


	37. Smells

Light doesn't travel far underwater which meant that sight was the least likely sense to use to detect something. Instead, most deep sea creatures, submarines included, relied on their sonar and their ampule to detect the presents of other animals. The key was to remain as still as possible and that's exactly what Stingray did. She heard Orlando above her, hovering with her prop rotating steadily to combat the currant. Not moving, just listening.

The diesel submarine was an expert at playing possum and her location on the ocean floor meant that Orlando's sonar couldn't pick her up. The nuclear sub couldn't distinguish the ocean floor from her hull. Something fell on her head and Stingray stifled her hiss of pain, not even daring to look up and see what it was. So now she was dropping stuff on her hmm? Alright, if Orlando wanted to play dirty, Stingray could play dirty.

A few hours ago, she'd consumed an entire great white shark. A full meal for a submarine of her size and type. But there was one little problem, shark's blood had a nasty habit of reacting foully with the enzymes in a sub's stomach. The results were often, explosive. Stingray could feel it coming on, shutting her eyes tightly as the inevitable happened.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHTTTT!

Orlando's head shot up at the sound and she looked around, trying to pinpoint its exact location. Then her nose started twitching. It was slow, gradual but Stingray like all submarines knew that while sight didn't travel far underwater, other senses including smell worked just fine. Orlando shuddered, wrinkling her nose as she tried in vein to hold her breath until the smell cleared. Water did an excellent job of absorbing the smells and carrying it around for all to sniff out. Stingray's fart would last a long time. Far longer than the Los Angeles-class' ability to hold her breath. Orlando gasped, daring to smell the water again and immediately put her fins over her nose with a noise of disgust.

Stingray was breathless from her silent laughter as the bigger sub left the area. "I should eat shark more often." She chortled.


	38. A New Home: Part 2

Once clear of the harbor Colorado could detect far more scents as they were carried on the open ocean currents. She could feel the coolness of the Antarctic current brushing against her hull. It was like fresh air against a hot and humid environment. She could practically feel the sweat and dirt being washed off her hull. "Mmm, now that's much better." She sighed. The currents brought with them other more unwelcome things. Colorado could smell them. At least 20 warships all within 48 hours of her declared exclusion line. The closest was a scent she knew well. Her sister, Illinois. The smaller Virginia class moved back and forth across the boundary line, testing the fence as it were. Well, Colorado would soon put a stop to that nonsense.

Her unique abilities included a camouflage gene, something common to submarines but this was taking it to a whole new level. She could literally extinguish any trace of her presence. Such a thing was known to occur in her breed but only once every 1000 years or so. Using this to her advantage, she worked her way directly behind Illinois and, reaching out with a diving plane, gave her a good whack across her tail fin. Illinois yelped and put on some speed, racing back across the line. She had shown Colorado her belly, but the Ohio-class knew Illinois could still bite if she wanted to. Hissing a warning she resumed her patrol along the line, placing scent markers at strategic points. This was her territory and Ancients help whoever tried to enter it without her permission.

Reaching the backside of Saint Martie she detected a pod of whales. It'd been a while since Colorado had actively hunted but it came as natural to her as swimming. Jaws parted to take in the whale's scent, she positioned herself beneath the pod, fins resting gently on the ocean floor. She remained perfectly still and silent, waiting for the pod to approach overhead. Then, she lunged, aiming for a large bull close just left of her snout. Just before impact special lids covered her eyes and her jaws clamped down. She burst out of the water, the whale clutched firmly in her jaws. She came back down hard on her back, broaching her stern. It was a struggle to right herself but she managed. Jaws ensnaring her prey she made full steam back for the harbor.

"I brought dinner!" She muttered through the mouthful of whale meat as she entered port. "Colorado, wow! That's huge!" Blinka cried. "This'll feed the fleet for a week." said one. "With a catch like that we should just let Colorado do the huntin'." said another. "Alright, give the sub some room." L'iana said as Colorado set her catch down. "Hope you don't mind the teeth marks in it." The sub said, swiping her tongue once around her jaws to clear them of the whale flesh. She backed off as the rest of the fleet came forward. "Each ship can take a chunk. There's plenty for everybody." L'iana ordered. Colorado hung back as they did so, leaving behind half the whale when they were done. "Colorado, I don't know to thank you." L'iana said. "No need. You've given me a home, the least I can do is take care of it." Colorado replied. "Well, thank you anyways." L'iana said and the sub chuckled. "Of course L'iana. My pleasure." "You sure you won't have some?" L'iana asked. "Don't need any." Colorado replied. "My reactor can sustain me just fine." "It's your catch though. You deserve a bite at least." L'iana said. "I won't take what I don't need." Colorado said. "No? And if I told you that we need you to eat it would you?" L'iana asked and Colorado sighed. "If you insist." She said and leaned down, eyeing the exposed rib bones. She grabbed onto a few, twisted and pulled, tearing them clean off the body. Bits of flesh clung to them and with a few jerks of her head, the chunk was swallowed whole. Bones and all. L'iana whistled. "Remind me never to look like an appetizer." She said and Colorado rolled her eyes.

A few hours later the pair were in their shared berth, having a drink. Whiskey was always a favorite of submarines as for some reason, it increased the rotation rate on their propellers, making them more efficient. Colorado downed the last of her class before digging through her alcohol supply. She pulled out a bottle of Turkey 101. "Now this is some of the good stuff." She grinned, popping the bottle cap. L'iana held out her class and Colorado gladly filled it. "How'd you come by such a large stash?" She asked. "Well, it's a bit of a long story." Colorado began, interrupted by the sound of squabbling between two nearby trawlers. L'iana sighed. "Excuse me." She said and went over to try and settle things. That's when Colorado felt the tightening in her gut. It'd been a long time since she'd felt it but then again it'd been a long time since she'd consumed bones too. Sighing, the Ohio-class sub hauled herself out of the berth, hull dripping water onto the sand, and she began to retch.

"...And disrespectful to the one who caught that whale. Now both of you will go your separate ways!" L'iana was ordering. The two trawlers agreed and split the offending chunk of whale in half, each carrying a section back to their respective berths. Sighing and shaking her head, half in annoyance, half in amusement, L'iana turned back to her berth and saw Colorado. She immediately rushed over. "Colorado, are you alright?" She asked. Pausing momentarily in her retching, the sub glanced back at her. "I'll be fine in a minute." She panted. A low hum sounded in her throat as she coughed, growing louder with each one.

L'iana was debating whether or not to fetch a doctor when a hacking sound made her turn. Colorado's body convulsed and her head dropped. Jaws parted, a long, oval shaped object with tapered ends came out and landed on the sand. Colorado collapsed next to it, smacking her jaws a few times. "Phew, glad that's over." She sighed. "It's been a while." "Might I ask, what was that about?" L'iana asked. "What did you just cough up?" "It's called a pellet. It's like an owl pellet." Colorado replied. "Submarines have similar physiology to their stomachs. Anything that's non digestible, hair, nails, even bones, is regurgitated. It's more common to diesel subs though as they actually need to eat." "Oh so that's why you were reluctant to eat the whale." L'iana realized and Colorado nodded. "May I?" She asked, eying the pellet. Colorado sighed and handed it to her. "Fascinating." L'iana murmured as she examined it. "Oh don't tell me you haven't seen a pellet before." Colorado sniffed as she moved back into the berth. "Owl pellets yes but submarine pellets... Do you mind if I keep this? I think it would make for fascinating research." L'iana asked. Colorado shrugged. "Sure fine. Do whatever. Far as I'm concerned I've got no claim to it." Li'ana frowned. "What's wrong?" She asked, not liking her lover's tone. Colorado didn't answer, she merely shifted. If L'iana looked closely enough she could see the sub was blushing. "It's nothing to be ashamed of Colorado." She said. "It's like trawlers being turned on by their winches. It's natural." Colorado sighed. "Just, not used to it I guess." She said. "Then you need to eat more often." L'iana said. "From now one, you'll get 2 fish from my catch and you will eat them." "Or what?" Colorado asked. "I'll make you." L'iana replied.

She could see she got the desired response from the sub if the mischievous glint in Colorado's eyes was any indication. "Oh, and just how will you make me little one?" She purred, reaching out a fin and rubbing it over L'iana's decks. The trawler grabbed it, spreading the webbed vestigial fingers and taking each one in her mouth individually. There were four in all and each one deserved her attention. Colorado's purrs grew deeper the more she sucked, enjoying the feel of L'iana's tongue against her skin. She pressed her muzzle to the trawler's neck, playing with one of the hooped rings on her ear. "Colorado." L'iana whined. "I'm trying to concentrate." "So am I." The sub replied. L'iana finished with the fingers and let the fin go, working her way up to Colorado's shoulder before twisting around to get at the soft folds of the skin on her neck. Colorado gave a deep moan before she snapped herself out of it. "L'iana, I don't think this is wise." She said. "And why not?" The trawler asked. "I'm so big, I could crush you." She said. "Not if you're on the bottom." L'iana pointed out. "But is this what you what, I mean it's your choice too." "What I want." L'iana purred, nibbling her ear. "Is to see if the rumors surrounding a submarine's berth capabilities are true." She worked her way down Colorado's neck, rubbing her chest until she got the sub's teats to harden and poke out. "I want to hear you squeal." She purred, sucking on the first one. "I want to hear you scream my name." The second one had milk in it and L'iana savored the sweet warm taste of the liquid. "And when you come, I want to feel and taste your sweet ambrosia." Her little sex talk got Ohio on her back with ease. L'iana lay on top of her. "Relax darling." She purred. "The best part is about to begin."

Ohio felt like every molecule of her being was on fire. But this wasn't the kind of fire that killed or injured, no this fire was a good fire. It burned yes, but it burned in a good way, with each flame lighting joy and pleasure to her frame. L'iana had come prepared and tied a dildo around her waste. She was gentle as she pushed in, not wanting to hurt Colorado. The whines and moans from the sub beneath her told her otherwise and she adjusted her angle, beginning a steady rhythm of thrusts. Colorado rocked with her, still being mindful of her much larger bulk, even in the throes of her passion. L'iana took to breathing through her nose as she timed her thrusts with each tit she sucked on. Sometimes her teeth would even nick them, drawing a little blood which she also savored. It was sweet with a bit of a tang from the uranium. "You darling, taste delicious." She purred, her sultry tone arousing Colorado even further. That the giant Ohio-class submarine could be aroused simply by her words amused L'iana. Her next thrust went deep as she buried the dildo up to its hilt, rubbing their slits together. Colorado's eyes rolled back in her head and she gave a long low moan as she came. Fluid sprayed out and around the dildo, soaking L'iana's keel. It puddled there between them and L'iana wasted no time reversing, the dildo coming free. She worked Colorado's slit, lapping up the fluids as they collected. "Sweeter than honey." She purred, savoring the slightly metallic taste. She took in a big gulp before leaning forward to kiss Colorado, allowing the submarine to taste what she hadn't yet swallowed. Her own fluids registering on her tongue earned L'iana a deep throated purr out of Colorado as the two kissed.

"M'amoursine." Colorado whispered.

L'iana closed her eyes, knowing how sacred the submarine tongue was. It was rarely shared with outsiders. "I love you too." She whispered back.

Colorado grinned up at her. "Again?" She asked and L'iana purred, resting her head on the submarine's chest as Colorado's fins rubbed her shoulders. That night, the two became more than lovers, they became mates. A sacred, cherished bond that only death could break.


	39. A New Home: Part 3

Water, it was any islands most valuable resource. Despite being considered as paradises where beach filled romances happen they were actually nature made prisons. The most dangerous ones. Why? Because of the very resource that surrounded them. Few islands had their own steady supply of fresh water, this island happened to be the exception. But if something were to happen to that water, then that would put the whole island at risk.

Colorado's enemies were sure to make that happen which is why the submarine insisted upon being a taster for the water supply daily. After the close call with the Secretary of Defense, she had to make sure her island's most valued resource wasn't being tampered with. The rules were simple, the submarine would take just enough for any pathogens to take affect but not so much that it could kill her. If there was deadly poison in the water however, a simple smell test would do the trick. Most poisons were detectable by scent and submarines had one of the most advanced sniffers on the planet. But there were a select few chemicals that leaved no signature. Colorado performed one such test now, breathing in deep as she placed her snout close to the water's gurgling surface. The small stream was one of many that entered the harbor from the cliffs above. Just one of many Colorado had taken to tasting. She'd test one stream, then wait a couple of hours for any poison to take affect before moving on to the next one. That way, everyone knew which streams were safe and which ones weren't.

"Are you through working that sniffer or do you just want to show off now." Colorado stifled her sigh carefully as she turned around, facing her mate. L'iana had been opposed to the taste testing from the outset and Colorado doubted she approved now. She took a few laps of the water with her tongue, swallowing the mouthful. "This one seems to be alright." She said. "The next 3 hours will be the just of that, come on." L'iana nudged her gently with her nose. She couldn't move the submarine anywhere if Colorado wanted to stay put but the Ohio-class let her as the pair headed back down into the harbor. Entering the berth, Colorado settled against the dock on her side, facing her mate. "You know I don't approve of this." L'iana said. "As you've been telling me from day one." Colorado sighed. "And as I have been telling you, it is necessary." L'iana sighed, seeing she was getting the same results as all the other previous arguments against this foolish risky plan had, namely nothing! "I'll make you some fish tacos. How does that sound hmm?" She nuzzled her. It was peace offering but not a closure and Colorado knew it. Offering her mate a glare, the sub gave in and nodded. "Delightful." She replied. L'iana kissed her cheek. "Be right back." She promised. "If you insist upon continuing this foolish action, then you will be doing so with a good meal in you. You're so thin, I would've expected a creature of the deep ocean to have a layer of fat on her." "L'iana, you forget I'm a _naval_ submarine which means I can't have any extra weight. It'd only slow me down and decrease my fitrep scores." Colorado said. "Well you're not in the navy anymore. In case you've forgotten, you went rogue and now your former comrades are out trying to kill you. You need all the strength you can get and the best way to get an extra boost is to eat." L'iana said. "Maybe you should dress up as a submarine if you're going to act like my mother." Colorado snorted, rolling her eyes. A sharp pain hit her belly and she gasped quietly, fins gripping her side. L'iana seemed not to notice. She continued her lecture as she put the chopped fish into the tacos. "You're the only defense this island has. If you go down, we go down with it." L'iana noticed her mate's silence. "Colorado?" She asked, turning around. Her mate lay splayed against the dock, her position suggesting a sudden collapse rather than a deliberate rest. "Oh dear Ancients." She whispered, rushing to her side. "MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC HERE NOW!" She cried, then turned back to her mate. "Colorado? Colorado can you hear me?" She tried the bond but found it blocked, rather strongly too. Whatever Colorado was feeling, it was bad enough that she did not want her mate to share in it. L'iana felt for a pulse, finding it weak but steady. "Alright, stay with me now." She growled and remembering her mate's naval origins she added "That's an order. You stay with me, soldier. And we'll get through this." She could only pray it would be enough. _"I've lost my whole family, I've lost a mate before. Please, don't take this one away from me too. Not when so many depend on her."_


	40. A New Home: Part 4

"It's BZ, known to the navy as Buzz." Blinka was as good as a doctor as one was going to get way out here. She had basic medical training and enough local plant knowledge to cure most ailments. "It's a powerful hallucinogen that, if ingested by us, would've put us in so deep a sleep that we never would've woken up." L'iana shuddered despite herself, now understanding Colorado's insistence upon being the water's guinea pig. "Is there a cure?" She asked. "Stimulants have sometimes been known to work but without knowing how strong the solution in the water was or how much of it she drank, I'm not willing to risk it. Best solution is to let her sleep it off." Blinka replied. "How long will that take?" L'iana asked. "About 8 hours." "This was a coordinated attack." She said. "I want all ships ready on standby. Something nasty is coming in the next 8 hours and I want to be ready for it." "Yes ma'am." Blinka left, leaving L'iana alone with her mate. The trawler snuggled herself tight to Colorado's side. "I am never leaving you alone again." She whispered.

 _5 YEARS EARLIER SENDAI JAPAN_

 _The whole family was on vacation. L'iana personally blamed Niata. Her sister was always coming up with wild idea. Sometimes, like this time, they were good though. Not that L'iana would ever admit it of course. Sometimes the work in Taji played with her head as killing often would and she, like the next ship, needed a refresher and what better place to relax than Sendai. The family had their own private spot to relax. Even a brisk breeze blew across the trees which was odd as L'iana could feel no wind. But air was very different on the clifftops than it was at sea level. Her other sister, Brika was eyeballing some fish that were beginning a mad dash out to sea. Apparently Brika had developed a reputation and as expected, she chased after them. "Not too far now!" L'iana warned with a chuckle. She leaned against her mate, himself a netter at Taji. Between them, their two children. 14 month old D'vira and 2 month old Brista. "Mommy I'm hungry." D'vira whined. "Your auntie's catching some fish now. You'll have food soon." L'iana promised. "Wonder what's taking her though?" She muttered. "Probably got her nose whipped by a fish tail and is taking her sweet time to finish the sucker off as vengeance." Her mate, Ilian, said and L'iana chuckled._

 _She heard her sister scream, and turned towards the sound, stunned at what she saw. The breeze was still blowing across the cliffs but L'iana knew now that was no breeze. That was the Parent of this ugly blue monster coming straight for them, over 130 feet high. "Tohoku." Ilian growled softly, confirming what she, what they were all seeing. There were sharp cliffs and steep hills on all sides of them. Great for the villagers as the high ground served as protection but for the ships, it was a trap with no way out. L'iana clung to her mate who gripped her back. The trawler kept her children on her leeward side so that she might somehow shield them with her body. L'iana had no words to describe what the impact felt like. She'd never experienced anything like it before. The deluge was unimaginable. Her whole world turned to a seething caldron of churning blue and white foam. Her shiplings and her mate were torn from her grasp. She never saw them again._

 _In total, 5 waves struck the harbor that day, each darker and more debris laden than the last. They were monsters, their faces splattered with the remains of their victims. L'iana knew she had survived because she could still feel pain and what pain it was. She would later learn her ribs had been crushed by the impact with the first wave and her shoulder had been broken upon hitting the ground nearly a mile from where she originated from. Before the water could recede, she made her way back to where she knew the original shoreline was and began searching for her family. Her mate and shiplings were gone and no matter how many times she called for them, they did not answer. The broken, twisted hull of Brika was seen mangled amongst a floating mat of debris. Her sister's shallow breaths ceased moments after her arrival. L'iana broke down and cried on her sister's flank. The remains of her mate and 2 month old son were never found. D'vira's body was recovered 3 weeks later over a hundred miles offshore. It took nearly 2 years before Niata's rotting torn corpse washed up on the shores of California._

L'iana's eyes flashed open. Surprised she had fallen asleep, she woke to semi darkness. The sun was going down and she was unsure for how long she had slept. Colorado was still out cold so it had to be less than 8 hours. Sighing, she settled down beside her mate again. It'd been five years since that awful day in March 2011 but the wounds were as fresh as they were yesterday. Sometimes, when the rains had been here long enough, L'iana's ribs would remind her of all she had lost and what she had gained. She had a new life now, a new home, and a new family. She hadn't dreamed of that time since she left Japan and she wasn't sure if dreaming of it now was a good or bad sign. The Ancients were trying to tell her something and be damned if she wasn't going to listen. _"Oh wise ones above, whatever I have done to wrong you please! Just punish me! But leave Colorado alone. She is innocent. Spare her your wrath. Let not my mistakes bring your fury down upon her!"_

Colorado's dreams were a jumbled mess and she couldn't make heads or tails of them.

 _"Colorado, you are ordered to fire."_

 _"I cannot." She whispered._

 _"Then you leave me no choice." She dove, desperately trying to avoid the missile as it detonated above her. The ocean floor loomed._

 _Another voice. "You betrayed your country." Illinois sneered. "You don't deserve to live."_

 _"You want a fight, I'll give you and your precious secretary a fight."_

 _Another face. "You are a disgrace." Ohio snarled._

 _"A traitor." Enterprise hissed._

 _"Worthless." Virginia agreed._

 _"So weak, so helpless..."_ Those voices were coming from outside Colorado's head but she couldn't pinpoint them. The fog was too thick. More voices were heard. "You will never get away with this!" L'iana. Her mate was in trouble. Anger served as a stimulant and the fog began to thin. She felt someone against her hull, decidedly not friendly. A voice close to her ear purred "Oh my dear, we just have."

When Serrat's lapdog flagship took the missile key off Colorado, L'iana lost it. She forced herself up against her captor, one of his aides, and pulled his dart gun away from him, tossing it over her shoulder. But her victory did not last long. He was on her again in an instant. L'iana may've been strong but she was no match for a trained fighter. The aide pulled out a knife, ready to slit her throat. Then suddenly he stiffened and rolled off her dead. Shocked, L'iana looked around for her savor and saw Colorado, her eyes wide and leaning heavily against the dock, barely able to stand, but gripping the dart gun she had thrown away. Serrat's flagship fled the scene, his work done. Colorado collapsed, unable to support her weight any longer. L'iana was at her side in an instant, helping the giant sub to lay flat. She buried her face in her neck. "I thought I was going to lose you." She sobbed. Colorado held her. "I'm tougher than I look." She assured. "But you, really scared me there L'iana." She whispered. "Seeing you fight that other ship. You could've been killed." "I couldn't let them hurt you." L'iana muttered. "I'm built to withstand anything those little punks could dish out. You on the other prop... Ancients L'iana when I saw that bastard pull a knife on you I was certain I'd be watching your death." She held her tighter. A single tear found its way past her tight control, landing with a wet plop on L'iana's deck. The trawler tried to comfort her mate by snuggling deeper into her side, nuzzling the nape of her neck. "I want you to promise me never to do something crazy like that again." Colorado said. "Colorado..." L'iana tried. The fins around her back loosened their grip and Colorado pulled back so L'iana could look at her. "You mean so much to me. I couldn't live with myself if you were injured or killed." The sub whispered passionately. Seeing her mate like this was enough to break L'iana's will. She sighed and nodded. "Alright." She agreed. The sub relaxed. "Thank you L'iana." She sighed and the pair joined in a kiss.


	41. The Grounding Prank

OCTOBER 27 1981

The Whiskey-class submarine U-137 was eager to get back home after a long patrol. There was just one little problem that she didn't know about, her western counterparts had set up a special surprise. Close by was USS Los Angeles. The class pathfinder was hidden in the far side of the harbor. "Oh this is gonna be good." She grinned and pressed a button. The carefully placed magnetic balls activated. They were designed to startle and disorientate a submarine and they appeared to work. 137 jumped. "Wha?" Becoming distracted she drifted off course, straight into a group of fishing trawlers which all had their nets out. She quickly became entangled. Beside Los Angeles, Nerwin was laughing behind her fins. Los Angeles had trouble keeping a straight face. The sight of the commie wriggling like a fish out of water as the trawlers tried to free her was comedy gold!

Shaking her head a few times, 137 continued on her course. She discovered she was having a hard time focusing. Something was affecting her main senses and with her secondary navigation offline she had no way to know where she was. Even in the semi-darkness of the harbor the sandbar loomed ahead through the murk. Too close to turn away. "дерьмо!"* She cursed, grimacing as the hard packed gravel ground against her keel. Before the effect of the magnetic balls could fade completely, Los Angeles tied chains around 137s rudder and anchored them into the seabed. The Russian submarine wasn't going anywhere without a welder. Nerwin, being the annoying little bug that she was, came up right close to the Soviet sub and gave her a wet willy before quickly dodging back out of range. 137 tried to bite her and get off the sandbar but discovered the chains held her fast.

Los Angeles probably should've just left well enough alone, leaving the Soviet navy to sort out her handiwork. But for the first time in her career, she had a Soviet submarine in a compromising position. She had to rub it in, just a little. "You aren't gonna thank me?" She asked. "I just saved the Soviet Navy the trouble of scraping an old rustbucket. At least this way you can be of some use. Be a little home for the fishies." "Вы сука! Американский мразь!"** 137 snarled. "You wound me, mon ami. As I said I'm doing you a favor." Los Angeles said. "Youv can do me a fafor by leafing!" 137 hissed. "Now, now. Let's be civil shall we." Los Angeles cooed. 137 huffed but otherwise remained silent. "Nerwin?" The bigger sub looked to her companion. With a cheeky grin, Nerwin came in close to 137 again and began to blow bubbles close to her ear, each one popping back against her face. After the fourth one 137 snapped, taking a lunge at Nerwin who had to make a sharp turn out of the way to avoid her snapping teeth. She leaped around and hid behind Los Angeles. "Keep that thing away from me!" 137 hissed. Los Angeles rolled her eyes. "Soviets. So stuffy aren't they." She said. "Oh aye, never any sense of humor." Nerwin chuckled and the two left, leaving 137 to curse and squeal behind them. Her curses were cut off by a well aimed bar of soap that landed directly in her mouth. She spat it out. "Americans." She sighed.

11 YEARS LATER NAVAL STATION EVERETT

USS Los Angeles was returning from a 4 month tour of Hawaii and the South Pacific. As wonderful as tropical islands were, she was quite happy to get home. Anything to keep her men's dicks inside their pants. "Psst." Passing the jetty, Los Angeles paused at the voice. "Psst, Los Angeles!" There it was again. Los Angeles looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice, already pinging away with her active sonar. "Up here." The voice said again, and there hanging by her props from an overreaching tree branch on the near bank was Nerwin. Despite herself, Los Angeles snickered. "Oh yeah laugh it up!" Nerwin snorted. "I'm sorry, just how did this happen exactly?" Los Angeles asked, carefully stifling her giggles. "I don't know. I was just sailing along when I got snagged." Nerwin whined. "Can you get me down?" She asked. "Say the magic word." Los Angeles said. Nerwin pouted but quickly gave in. "Please Los Angeles." She begged. Los Angeles eyed the rope tying her to the tree and with a flick of her propeller blades, she cut the line allowing for Nerwin to fall into the water head first.

Unfortunately for the big submarine, doing so meant that that rope would fling upwards, searching for a weight to grab onto. She was that weight and with the rope melted onto her propeller blades, she was pulled right up out of the water. "Whoa-ho!" She cried. Nerwin was clapping as she erupted in fits of giggles and Los Angeles' superb hearing quickly determined she wasn't the only one in hysterics. She glared as she spotted the source of the second laughter. "You!" She hissed. "We meet again Los Angeles." 137 said as she came forward. "Payback's a bitch ain't it?" "This is ridiculous. Put me down this instant!" Los Angeles roared. 137 tsked. "I'm not a US warship, Los Angeles. You can't order me around." She said. "No but I can order you." She pointed at Nerwin. "Get me down!" "Say the magic word!" Nerwin repeated the sub's earlier words in an annoying singsong voice. Los Angeles closed her eyes as she vented her steaming anger. _"Please_ Nerwin." She asked. "Nope!" Nerwin sang. "I'm not commissioned so you can't order me around either." Los Angeles snarled. "I think some cool down time is in order don't you?" 137 asked Nerwin. "I think I'm in total agreement with you." Nerwin giggled and the pair sailed off with Nerwin bouncing around in front of the Soviet, begging for stories. "GET BACK HERE YOU REVOLTING, FOUL, LOATHSOME LITTLE #$%)#%( )#&%) #(&)%( #%0 #%)(#$%)#% #_)& #(&!" Los Angeles' rant of cuss words was cut off by a well aimed bar of soap from 137 that landed squarely in her mouth. Spitting it out, she huffed a sigh and grumbled "Russians!"

* Shit!

** You bitch! American scum!


	42. Home (Major Spoilers for TF5)

Conqueror had expected it. After becoming the only nuclear submarine to sink a warship, the sub affectionately known as "Conks" had known that Victory's next deputy would be her. Even so, it was still somewhat of a shock. It was even more of a shock for her to learn this morning that the old warship had passed away, finally released of her curse. Conks was grateful that Long Shadow had finally come to her senses but this left her as flagship of the Royal Navy. A position that she wasn't particularly fond of. It wasn't that she doubted her abilities. She never did. Victory wouldn't have chosen her if she couldn't perform her duties. But feeling the minds of the entire fleet, now hers, connected within her own was a bit unnerving. She could just think something and they'd follow her command without question. She could order 'Launch a nuclear strike on the United States" (not that she would _ever_ do such a thing!) and they would do it. The very thought of this blind following made her shudder. __

_"You think too much, Conks."_ Conks hid her smile under a grimace. Only one ship had the sass to talk to her in that cockney accent. _"Wasn't it you who told me that thinking was a good thing, Alliance. Think before you act sort of thing."_ She could practically see the older sub shrug before she replied _"You're mind is a hurricane of thoughts Conks. Thinking is all well in good when its a breeze." "Impertinent."_ Conks muttered. _"I don't know why I listen to you sometimes." "Sure you do."_ Alliance replied in a cheeky tone. _"It's cause you know I'm right and you want to hear my advice."_ Conks rolled her eyes. Of course she was right, but the Churchill-class sub would be a pile of scrap metal before she admitted it. Not that Alliance ever needed her admission. She always seemed to know what her flagships were thinking. As though she and no one else could get inside their heads. _"Okay, you got me and I'm listening." "Knew you'd come around."_ Alliance laughed, then her tone turned serious. _"Come to Gosport and I'll tell you." "I'm seriously beginning to question your position in this fleet. I'm flagship, I should be giving the orders. For this I should have you court marshaled."_ _"Aw, thanks for loving me so much, Conks." "I hate you."_ No she didn't, not in a million years. Alliance just laughed.

That afternoon saw her docked alongside Alliance while the older sub preened herself free of pigeon droppings. They'd been sitting together in the sun for an hour already and the older sub had yet to say a word. Conks was getting impatient. Just as she was about to speak, Alliance said "time for a bath". She gathered herself and leaped over the drydock wall and Conks before splashing down in the water beside her. Conks was doused in the wave. She spat brine and glared. Alliance rolled about like an otter, clearly enjoying herself. She'd always enjoyed the water more than the other subs. Yes, it was the natural environment of their kind but Alliance relished in it like she'd never felt it before. It left Conks dumbfounded. "You're too impatient Conks. That is your biggest problem. You need to learn patience." "Like what you've just been teaching me." Conks sighed. So there was a method to her madness after all. Not that she ever thought otherwise. There was always reason behind everything the old sub did.

Eventually rolling back to an even keel, Alliance took a moment to catch her breath beside Conks. Conks, now aware that school was in session, let her teacher take her time. After a minute, Alliance spoke again. "Change is coming Conks. Change more dangerous than we were ever meant to cope with." "What kind of change?" Conks asked. Alliance looked away. "Alliance, tell me. What's coming?" "Nothing." Alliance replied in a quiet voice. "Nothing _is coming_ , Conks." Conks was confused until she added "It's already here." Conks circled around to look her in the eye. "Tell me everything Alliance. What can I do to stop them?" "You don't understand." Alliance began. "There's more to it. There always was." "Alliance..." "They keep coming. Here. It's always here. Why? Why you ask? Why this one world, out of hundreds of thousands?" She stared directly into her flagship's eyes with a gaze that unnerved Conks who took the bait. "Why then?" She asked. Alliance didn't answer for a moment and when she did, it was with actions more than words. She lunged at Conks, bowling the flagship over and pinning her before she could react.

Being forced to look directly into Alliance's deep blue gaze she was struck at just how blue the other sub's eyes were. There was no black pupil, just a darker shade of blue surrounded by the lighter iris. And they glowed. Of course all sub's eyes did but hers were different. Conks was shocked she hadn't seen it before. Alliance's past had always been shrouded in mystery, her origins even more so and rumors circulated amongst the fleet of a "coverup". But now Conks felt with absolute certainly that she knew just who Alliance really was. "You-you're..." Alliance wouldn't let her finish. _"Two brothers. An eternal struggle. The weapon shall be reborn, the talisman holds the key. Two world's collide, but only one survives."_ She collapsed and Conks wriggled her way free, pressing a fin to Alliance's neck. She wasn't sure that would work but she was relieved nonetheless when she felt a pulse. Alliance coughed and opened her eyes, which had dulled significantly. They looked almost normal now. "Hadn't had that happen for a while. I, didn't hurt anyone did I?" She asked. Conks shook her head, wincing. Alliance had a strong grip. "You're lying through your teeth." The old sub said. "It's not that bad." Conks managed. "As the Yanks say, bullshit. Come here." Conks sighed and let Alliance look at her injuries. Alliance was gentle as she examined them. Conks kept still. "I could turn you in, you know." She said. "Aye, you could. Technically, I'm outlawed from this planet. I wouldn't hold it against you if you did." "But you know more than what you're letting on. There's a way to fight back isn't there? And only you can find it." "So you do know how to use that brain of yours." Alliance grinned, giving her a quick rap on the head. Conks winced. "Alliance, I wouldn't turn you in even if you were a completely useless bucket of bolts. If that were the case, I'd just end you myself." "I'll ignore the underhanded jab on my life and take that as a compliment." Alliance said with her typical cockiness. Ah, back to normal. Well, what passed as normal anyways. Conks didn't think she could ever look at her closest confidant the same way again.

Alliance finished dressing her wounds but her fins still remained on Conk's body. She gently tilted Conk's head to look at her, eye to eye. "You've known what I am for 15 minutes and you still haven't asked me." She said. "So go on, ask. Because you won't get another chance." Conk's took a deep breath. "Why choose Earth? You're..." "Terran." Alliance replied. "Completely and wholly Terran. The only difference is what's on the outside. I can't even transform. As soon as I scanned this form I tore out my T-cog. I am Cybertronian by birth only." "But why, Alliance?" Alliance looked deep into Thresher's eyes. Her gaze was becoming more natural by the second. The blue pupil had faded to black and the iris was dulling its glow. "Because this world, above all the others, is the only place that has ever allowed me to call her home. This is my home Conqueror. This is where I belong. And to my dying breath will I defend it." She panted. "Help me back to my berth please Conks. I sense the time is nigh. Soon will we all have to defend our home." Conks pressed her nose to her flank, feeling the pulse of life there but it was so familiar, so un-alien that it took her breath away for a moment. "You're becoming Terran." She realized. "I chose my side a long time ago, child." Alliance rasped. "I do not regret it." Conks recalled what she had learned of Transformer biology, courtesy of Topeka who had become the world's leading expert on the subject. Topeka had told her that while extremely rare, a Cybertronian could evolve into an organic Terran but the process was long, dangerous and killed more often than not. No Cybertronian had been known to survive it. "And if you survive?" Conks asked out loud. "That is, a far possibility Conks." Alliance sighed. "But if you do, what happens?" Conks pressed. "If I do survive both the coming war and my own conversion then I will lose the Cybertronian knowledge I carry forever. I will become completely Terran and serve you, my flagship. And this country." Conks pressed their foreheads together, her right fin caressing her friends face. _"The peace be all around you, my knight."_ Alliance was so stunned at hearing her own language she took a moment to respond but did so by placing her own fin on Conks face. _"And may the seas calm to your presence, my flagship."_


	43. Houston We Have A Problem

_May 1989_

"Sir?"

"Not now Houston. What do you see up there, ensign?"

Los Angeles-class submarine USS Houston SSN-713 was cruising just off the coast of Florida. For a few days now she'd been having problems with her sump tank. It would sound alarms like it was taking on too much water when she dove. The engineers had said it was a faulty sensor but she wasn't convinced. Of course, no one would listen to a "dumb boat".

"Just a cruise ship sir. She's quite the talker too, practically jamming our radios with her chit chat."

"What's she saying?"

"Just the usual gossip sir."

"Very well, lower number 2 periscope. Officer of the Deck, rig the boat for dive."

"Sir?"

"Not now Houston!"

"Dive! Dive!"

"Sir!"

"Alright, what is it Houston?!"

"It's my sump tank sir. It's not a faulty sensor. It's a faulty valve. It's taking too much water in which means..."

As soon as ballast was blown, Houston didn't glide gracefully down like she should've. Instead, she dropped like a rock.

Only the sheer professionalism of her crew kept them from screaming like little girls. Houston however, had plenty of voice for them all.

"FFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK!" She squealed.

Thankfully someone had the sense to conduct an emergency blow and she popped back to the surface.

Gasping in the atmosphere gratefully, the quivering submarine rasped in a shaky voice "Let's not do that again. Let's not do that again."

...

June 14 1989

"Wait, wait, wait. You want me to do what?!" Houston asked.

"I want you to play the part of US submarine Dallas as she fends off a Russian Alpha." The man replied.

"Why me? Why not just go get Dallas herself?" Houston huffed.

"Because you have acting experience. She doesn't. And she's on patrol anyways and we're under a time constraint."

"Alright! Alright! I'll do it." Houston grumbled then she chuckled. "Dallas is gonna be so jealous. Besides, acting. How hard can it be?"

"Ah fuck!" As it turns out very hard. Those were the words Houston uttered as she snagged a tow cable from a nearby tugboat. A tugboat that was _supposed_ to be farther west of her than it was.

The sub's strength allowed her to pull herself free and she broached the surface. "Well at least no one got hurt." She said. Just then a crewman got tangled in the tugboat's end of the line and fell over its bow, sinking like a stone. "And I spoke too soon." She sighed.

...

June 16 1989

Fortuna was a little fishing boat. She relied on nets rather than a long line to get her catch which meant she had to stay near the netting at all times. This meant she had a front row seat to what was about to happen.

300 feet below her, Houston was minding her own business on a routine patrol. _"Nice warm sea. No ships about. No noise. Just me alone with... NET!"_ The filthy contraption wrapped itself around her bow array and her sail as well as one of her fins ensuring she couldn't escape despite how much she tried. "No, no, no! Not again!" She moaned. "I'm jinxed! I swear I'm jinxed!" She tried forcing her way out with little success. The net only tightened its grip on her and what's worse. She felt herself beginning to rise.

On the surface, Fortuna felt the tugs in her net. Confident she'd caught a large school of fish, she began to reel it in. It was a struggle. She must've caught something big. A dark shape began to appear and it was most certainly not a school of fish.

"Great. If it's a whale I'll have to let it go and spend the rest of the season repairing my net and... my goodness!"

What broached was definitely not a whale either. The thing was twice as big as the largest known whale and twice as mean and was currently snarling things at her in a tongue that was unfamiliar. Fortuna could assume the words were uncomplimentary though to say the least. She caught a glimpse of a number on the creature's top fin and it continued to struggle, the nets enhancing their grip.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Fortuna said, leaning in to help.

She had to leap back as it made a lunge for her with its powerful jaws. A pair of blue eyes glared at her. Wait, were those eyes glowing?! She noticed a few tears in the creature's skin and from those tears leaked something that also glowed. Like some kind of green phosphorescence. Before she could wonder more, the creature managed to wiggle its side fin free and its strong head did the rest. It immediately dove, vanishing beneath the waves just as quickly as it came up, leaving strands of net behind. Fortuna could only stare after it in shock. "No one would ever believe me if I told them I caught a submarine." She managed eventually.

...

July 1 1989

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Was Houston's eloquent response to water flooding into places it shouldn't flood. Namely the torpedo and engine rooms. While she still had power in her reactor she blew her ballast tanks in a quick burst starting to rise. And of course the shifting water had to ruin her plans.

"No! No! No! Other way! Up! Up!"

In desperation she blew her tanks fully and finally broached but under full power she started to dive again.

"Fucking hell! Up!" She cried and finally managed to stay on the surface. It was a long voyage back to Pearl Harbor.

...  
The rest of 1989 consisted of an electrical fire in August, a close call with a torpedo in September, and the loss of her towed sonar array in November. Houston was the happiest ship of all at the new year celebrations! Her Year From Hell was finally over.

...

"Watch it! Watch it!" Houston warned as her helmsman started a late turn. She breathed a sigh of relief as she cleared the concrete pier with just 300 feet to spare. "Thank the Ancients." She said and then the universe decided to remind her of exactly who's rule she lived under.

A big ocean swell slammed across her back and water poured down an open hatch, soaking the galley.

Crewman were not amused. "This is what we get from serving on the boat from hell!" One said.

Houston had no reaction to this. She just gazed skyward. "Why?!" She moaned to the Ancients.

...

After 2 years being incident free, Houston was starting to think she'd shed the Jonah she carried on board. But like always, her wishful thinking was crushed.

In the spring of 1994 she was 6 weeks into a several month long deep Pacific deployment when one of her shaft bearings failed. "Ouch! Ow! Ow! Ow! Flipping whale blubber!" She swore as she started to bleed from the injury. It was a long mid ocean-repair before she could get back on station.

...

December 1998

4 years later another incident occurred. One that at least Houston could say wasn't really her fault. Problems with the refrigeration units for the EABs had been identified years earlier as a class problem. That still didn't say she wasn't humiliated when she had to spend the next 3 weeks in drydock getting her systems flushed of the gas.

...

August 2008

Houston limped into the Pearl Harbor drydock with her head down. Every so often she would cough, bringing up a mix of heavy water and radioactivity from her reactor. Someone managed to find some humor in the situation.

"Houston we have a problem."

"... I hate my life!"


	44. A New Home: Part 5

Episodes 7-13

Consciousness was slow to come for Colorado. She existed more in a state of limbo, blissfulness fading with each sleepy blink. Gradually, her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing. "Morning." L'iana greeted. "Mm, morning." Colorado purred as they shared a kiss, fins adjusting their position around her mate. "Behave." The trawler scolded. "Your Chinese friends will be here in an hour." "Then we have 60 minutes to enjoy ourselves." Colorado replied, leaning in for another kiss. "No." L'iana pulled away. "You're going to eat your breakfast, get cleaned up and look at least somewhat presentable." Colorado pouted. "And then, after they've left you should be free to spend the rest of the day however you like." The sub grinned. "Now you're talking. Shall I put the batteries on the charger then?" She asked. "Oh you're a dirty old cigar with a mind full of rust!" L'iana scolded. "Bite my shiny prop." Colorado winked, dodging the light-hearted slap she received in response.

Colorado sat behind her captain as she listened to the Chinese ambassador. How she hated that man! He smelled of lies. She didn't like people who smelled like that. It took all her willpower not to curl her lip as the wind changed direction. And suddenly his smell was the least of her concerns. For the change in wind direction brought along another scent. A threat that was further determined by her radar. "Colorado?" whispered L'iana next to her. She noticed how the sub's eyes snapped suddenly in a different direction to the SE. Colorado put her nose to the air in that direction, confirming her suspicions. "What is it?" The sub locked eyes with her mate. "Trouble." She replied and turned back to the meeting, flopping forwards. "Sorry to interrupt gentleman." She began, moving beside her captain, a fin blocking his way as he tried to get around in front. "But care to explain to me ambassador why there are three Chinese destroyers moving towards this island?" The man was apparently stunned at Colorado's revelation. "Because you set us up didn't you? You set us up to die you son of a bitch!" She knocked him down with a quick punch and he was left wriggling in the sand, looking straight up into the rage filled ice green eyes and razor sharp teeth of the Ohio-class boomer. "Colorado!" "Colorado, take it easy. Let him go." "Let him go, Colorado he's not worth it." Colorado panted, stopping just short of biting into the man. She hissed slowly through her teeth. "I'd eat you. But you'd just foul my stomach." She growled. "Now get out of here!" He didn't need to be told twice.

Colorado turned back to her fleet. "We've got big guns inbound. They'll be here in under 4 hours." "Should we fight ma'am?" Blinka spoke up. "No. You lot are going to hightail it out of here. Saint Croix 100 miles to the north, you'll be safe there. Make the necessary preperations." "Aye ma'am." Blinka nodded and barked out orders. The fleet dispersed except for one ship. L'iana turned to her mate. "You're going to stand and fight aren't you? While we run like cowards you don't intend to follow us." "Oh I intend to." Colorado smiled. "After I deal with this threat accordingly." "Three destroyers is a lot to take on." L'iana said, facing straight ahead. "You might need some backup." "I have my SEALs." "Dammit Colorado, I can fight! I want to fight!" L'iana growled. "Not this time L'iana. You promised me, remember?" "With all due respect, damn the fucking torpedoes!" L'iana snarled. Colorado turned to her, her gaze deadly serious. "No." She said quietly and in a tone that had all the finality to it. "And that's final!" "Ugh!" L'iana hit the water in her frustration as she watched her mate sail off. Fuming, she stalked back to her berth. Lifting the dock up revealed a cashe of weapons she'd kept hidden from everyone, including Colorado. Going behind her mate's back was not something she took pleasure in but if it was to save Colorado's life... She loaded up quickly, locking everything down so it appeared she was never there. Then she took to sea.

Preparations was just another word for chaos as the little fleet of trawlers scrambled to collect all their belongings and make for open water. Blinka spotted Colorado off to the side, bow facing the open sea. The sub just sat there. The little trawler made her way alongside her flagship. Colorado cast an eye down on her. Still she didn't say a word. She was waiting for Blinka to speak. "The preparations are coming along, ma'am. The fleet will be underway within the hour." "Good." She nodded, turning away again. "You don't have to do this alone." Blinka said. "First L'iana now you." The sub groaned. "Don't be so harsh with her. She means well." Blinka replied. "This is no place for an unarmed fishing trawler. If I hadn't come here..." Colorado began. "Don't start blaming yourself now." Blinka growled. "L'iana, you could never tell but she's Japanese born. She had a mate, had children. Had a loving family." "Then how'd she wind up here?" Colorado asked. "It wasn't by choice. Nature made that decision for her. She lost her entire family and nearly perished herself. She couldn't bear to remain and so she fled. And found refuge here." Colorado looked down. Blinka knew she was pushing it but she leaned in anyways. "L'iana needs you Colorado. She'll do anything to protect you. You're all she has left." "She has you." The sub said. Blinka snorted. "I need you to take care of her." "Colorado..." "You and I both know there's only one way this is going to end." Colorado said. Blinka nodded slowly. "I'll care for her." She promised. Colorado nodded. "Um, excuse me ma'ams?" Colorado turned to the speaker. Jacobs, another small fishing boat. "The fleet's ready to leave but I can't find L'iana." "Did you check her berth?" Blinka asked as Colorado turned, her attention fixed on Jacobs. "I did ma'am. She wasn't there. And um, she has this cashe of weapons she hides under the dock. Never said anything about it. I only know its there because I saw her open it once. Well, I looked and all the weapons had been taken." "Shit." Colorado whispered. "Ma'am?" Both boats turned to her now. "L'iana's gone to face those destroyers." "Alone?" Blinka asked incredulously. "You did say she'd do anything to protect me." Colorado replied. "Blinka, get this fleet away from this island. I want them in St. Croix yesterday." She ordered and made for the channel with all haste.


	45. A New Home: Part 6 (final part)

Episode 13

Colorado steamed as fast as her engines would dare let her, pushing them past the red line. She could feel them straining, delicate machinery struggling to keep up with her demands and somewhere in the back of her mind she was aware of the possibility of overheating and the risk that presented. But she didn't care! She felt nothing. Not even the strong current generated by her 40 knot plus speed. The only thing she felt was fear. All encompassing fear. L'iana could be in great danger. Three destroyers was a lot to take on even for a state of the art submarine like her never mind a fishing trawler! What had she been thinking? But Colorado already knew the answer to that. L'iana had done the only thing she could do, protect her fleet and her mate at the same time. That selfless attitude was part of why she had endeared herself to Colorado. The submarine saw a lot of herself in the plucky trawler. But that likeness was going to get the one thing that Colorado loved more than anything killed. Well, not on her watch! She increased speed even more, her engines protests audible to her and anyone who had sonar. Again in the back of her mind a voice told her caution. Her instincts begged her to slow down, to avoid generating so much noise and she shoved them down viciously. She would've brought Pegasus online but doing so would cost her speed and she needed every knot she could get!

It took her an hour before she finally reached the destroyers position. Diving deep she hovered just above a thermocline, her belly brushing it. She could dive under it if she was detected, effectively disappearing from their scopes. The destroyers were talking to someone and Colorado listened, her passive array picking up the strains of their conversation. What she heard, dispelled any notion she might've had about escaping undetected.

 _"Now why don't you be a good girl and tell us where to find USS Colorado?"_

Colorado bit back a snarl. Her mate was up there with a gun to her head. They didn't know she was here yet. She might be able to capitalize on that. She blew ballast and rose gently towards the surface, trailing a trio of fine wires behind her.

L'iana glared at the flagship with intense hatred blazing in her eyes. If it wasn't for his buddy holding her back she would've bitten his jugular. "Colorado doesn't go by that name anymore, don't you know? She's gone rogue."

"Where is she?" The destroyer's nostrils flared as he reigned in his temper.

L'iana forced back the fear she felt rising in her throat. She knew she was a dead ship. She would likely be the source of their amusement for the first little while before they finally decided to kill her. L'iana took a moment in answering and when she did her tone was slightly mocking. "I honestly don't know." She smiled convincingly at him. That was truth, she didn't know but she had a good idea. Of course she wasn't going to let him know that and she enjoyed rubbing the honesty in his face.

He growled and raised a wire to strike her. L'iana braced herself and then a new voice called out. "I'm right here!"

All ships turned to stare at Colorado, water rushing off her deck as she settled on the surface. Her green eyes were narrowed into fine slits but L'iana could see they were hard as ice and she hid back her rising grin. Those destroyers had no idea what was coming for them. "If you want to fight me then fight me. But when you take one of _my_ ships then I'm sorry to say the rule book goes out the window."

"Give up the island." The lead destroyer ordered.

"I just might if you let her go." Colorado replied, eyes flickering momentarily to L'iana. The bond between them was locked shut with a metal pad and chain but a few emotions slipped through. The most prominent of them was fear. Colorado's eyes traced over her and seeing the trawler was relatively unharmed brought a flicker of relief across the bond before the submarine turned her attention back to the destroyers.

"Oh we're counting on it." The lead ship replied. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to take this one," his pal shook L'iana for emphasis and Colorado had to use every ounce of self control she had not to pounce on him. "Then, I'm going to..."

"Take over the island and kill us all, yeah yeah scary stuff." Colorado snorted, seemingly unaffected. L'iana was surprised until she felt the small hint of satisfaction creeping across the bond. She had a plan and they were falling right into it. L'iana sent smugness her way and got a small smirk in reply. "Listen since you're a world class psychopath," She continued seemingly unaffected and L'iana chuckled. "I've got a better option for you. One that will appeal more to your tastes. You set her down, proceed to the island and take it over, then I be the generous American I am and take us out to dinner."

L'iana stared at her mate, understanding exactly what Colorado had in mind. _"You_ _didn't!"_ She thought.

 _"Be ready."_ Was the sub's only reply.

Below the surface, Colorado held three fine guide wires in her fins. At the other end were three Mark 48 ADCAP torpedoes, launched below the thermocline and brought near the surface with her. She programmed each to target one of the Chinese destroyers, set to detonate under their keels and merely was stalling for time before each was in position. She needed them to hit at the exact same time to prevent the risk of L'iana being fired upon as the destroyers realized they'd been had.

"No, thank you. I think I like our plan better." The lead destroyer replied. "Now, we shall be going. You shall remain right where you are."

"I shall not move." Colorado smirked. "You on the other prob, will be going on a special journey. A journey, to the ocean floor."

Before her words could sink in, Colorado cut the guide wires and the torpedoes on board computers honed in. Each detonated right on the mark sending up a trio of splashes up as the destroyers backs were broken. One managed to rotate a turret around to fire on L'iana but Colorado launched a missile at him. It missed, streaking up into the stratosphere as it awaited further commands from its mother ship but its launch startled the destroyer causing his shot to go wild. He quickly sank.

Colorado pried the dead destroyer off her mate, taking L'iana in her fins. She kissed her repeatedly. "You're so stupid, L'iana! What were you thinking? Why did you do that, why?!"

L'iana for her part seemed perfectly relaxed despite the situation she had just been in. She leaned into her mate's grip. "When you dive, I dive right?" She replied.

It took a moment for Colorado to get the reference, then she grinned. "You're crazy you know that?!" She laughed.

"I've got a submarine for my mate. Of course I'm crazy." L'iana nuzzled her.

Colorado smiled. "Brinka's leading the fleet to St. Croix, I need you to join them." She said.

"Aren't you coming with us? The destroyers are gone, the threat has been neutralized."

Colorado shook her head. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot. Those destroyers had help." She raised her voice to address who she knew had surfaced behind them. "Isn't that right, Illinois."

The smaller sub shook water off her deck. "That's USS Illinois to you, traitor."

"Considering you sold information to the Chinese, I'd say you're more traitor that I am." Colorado replied, turning to face her. She kept one fin on L'iana, curled around her protectively. Her body language was clear. _"She's mine!"_

Illinois' eyes sparkled. "My my, found a mate in a deserter have we. Very naughty Colorado. Very naughty indeed but rogues do think alike."

Beside Colorado, L'iana stiffened. "I deserted nothing!" She hissed. "My family was gone, none survived that disaster."

"True." Illinois shrugged. "But when the Coast Guard called up its reservists where were you? Halfway on your journey to Caribbean. You had reached Panama as I recall, basking in the warm sun and the pleasurable company."

L'iana's response contained language foul enough to make a sailor blush. And it was in a tongue only the present boats could understand. L'iana had just spoken in submarine.

Illinois' eyes flashed. "You are not worthy to speak my tongue, foul pirate!"

"I am the mate of an Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine. If she thinks I am worthy then that's good enough for me." L'iana replied just as coolly.

"Enough." Colorado intervened. She just rescued her mate from one opponent. She didn't want to do it a second time. Especially not when she was uncertain if she could beat Illinois. When the torpedoes detonated, her proximity to the explosions ensured she got a sail full of shrapnel. One in particular was lodged close to an artery on her right side. It didn't puncture it but was cutting off some blood flow. Already, she was having a hard time operating her bow plane there, the one that was currently resting over L'iana. "L'iana, I want you to join the fleet." She said.

"But I want to fight. I can stay, I can help!" L'iana begged. Colorado knew she was beginning to see the truth in this war. There was only one way it was going to end, and they both knew it.

"You've already done beautifully." Colorado assured her, consciously forcing her fin to move, two of her fingers caressing her mate's cheek. "Now let me take it from here, okay?"

L'iana pressed her nose into the sub's palm, not saying anything for a moment. Colorado didn't have much time.

"L'iana do you trust me?" She asked.

"With everything I have." The trawler replied.

"Then go. Go as fast as you can, get the fleet to St. Croix and don't. Look. Back."

L'iana nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She longed to kiss her mate, tell her loving words that would do absolutely nothing to change the outcome of what was about to happen. But she didn't. She respected Colorado's wishes, sending a wave of love across the bond and hoping it gave the submarine enough strength to win the coming battle.

"Goodbye." As L'iana sailed out of sight, Colorado turned her attention back to Illinois. Her opponent remained on the surface, readying to strike. Colorado bit back a smirk, perfect. She still had control of the missile she had launched and relayed a command to lock on to her position. She had 10 minutes. 10 minutes to keep Illinois busy.

Illinois lunged first. Colorado parried with an expert block and the two dove into the battle. Keeping Illinois close to the surface was key. Too deep and the missile would detonate harmlessly above. But remain on the surface and if the missile missed the two would sail away unscathed. She had to keep both above 500 feet. A shallow water attack was something that the Virginia-class had an advantage in. Colorado was a deep water sub, meant for mid ocean excursions. The near constant disturbances of the surface waters made them dangerous to a submarine who knew little about them and the Ohio's handicap didn't help matters. She could hardly move her right fin at all now and the vision in her right eye was starting to gray. She was running out of time.

Taking a vicious hold of her ludicy she bit into the nearest thing she could see which happened to be Illinois' port fin. She wrench her head back and forth like a sharks, shredding the appendage before being forced to let go as Illinois banged their heads together. The dull ring sounded for several minutes and Colorado knew without looking that her sonar array was shot. She'd be lucky to get anything out of it. She was tiring fast. A look at her countdown clock told her she had 5 more minutes but Colorado wasn't sure she could last that long. The blockage in her brain was compromising her entire right side. She had no feeling in her bow plane and her aft fin was starting to tingle as well. Looking at Illinois, Colorado could see her fellow submarine was having little issue holding her own. Another glance at the clock, 3 minutes. Colorado stared into the eyes of her opponent. Once, Illinois had been a kind sub. A bright student who was always eager to learn the ways of the world. But where once there was brightness, now there was nothing but eternal cold.

"What have they done to you, Illinois?" She rasped.

"Nothing you can fix." Illinois hissed in reply. "I have my orders to kill you and orders are orders."

"You don't have to follow them." Colorado said.

"And end up like you? A dying rogue? Hmph, no I don't think so."

"We have a duty to our country yes but also to do the right thing. Tell me Illinois, is this the right thing? Is any of what your commander in chief wants the right thing?!" 90 seconds, Colorado's tracking computer showed her the missile had reentered the atmosphere. Its directional thrusters were keeping it on course for the target. She sent it updated information, letting it know that the targets position had changed by 100 feet laterally and 200 feet vertically. The missile responded instantly, picking up speed as it adjusted its angle.

60 seconds. Colorado could see the indecision in Illinois eyes but she knew she'd already made her choice. Even if some miracle allowed her to turn Illinois the rest of the US fleet and the Pentagon would never rest until she was sunk. Colorado was simply saving them the effort and she was going to take her opponent down with her. For her country, for her fleet, for L'iana. The thought of her mate gave Colorado the strength she thought she didn't have.

"This is the right thing." She answered for Illinois and lunged, holding the other sub in position against the current. The muscles she could still feel screamed at her to let go as Illinois writhed kicked and bit at any part of Colorado she could reach. 20 seconds, the missile slowed as it entered the lower reaches of the atmosphere. Its onboard computer began making commands of its own, locking onto its target and adjusting its course on its own.

10 seconds, the missile would be visible only on the most sophisticated of radars as it passed through 30,000 feet, traveling at 10 times the speed of sound. Anyone looking at their screens would see a brief blip and nothing more, shrugging it off as an anomaly.

5 seconds, the missile was now visible on the ground if anyone was watching but out here in the deep ocean, only the submarines sitting just below the surface were its only witnesses.

4 seconds, Colorado tightened her grip on Illinois, reaching out to her mate. She felt L'iana's presence close by but not close enough to be hurt in the explosion.

3 seconds, L'iana felt her mate's call and opened her end of the bond. Colorado didn't wait even a microsecond. _"DUCK IN COVER!"_ She ordered instantly. A reference to the cry so popular in nuclear explosion videos in the 1950s. L'iana's fear heightened but she acknowledged her mate's command, letting her know the fleet also was obeying.

2 seconds, Illinois managed to get a hold on Colorado's port fin, wrenching the appendage out of its socket. Colorado roared in pain but she held on as best she could, her useless starboard fin scraping against Illinois' flank in a screech of metal.

1 second, the missile was too close now to abort. Colorado closed her eyes. There was no true way to brace one's self for death. One could only let it come with quiet dignity.

0 seconds, the missile impacted the sea still traveling at close to 8 times the speed of sound. Water was ejected in a circular pattern upon impact, most vaporizing instantly. The missile exploded upon contact with the sea, its flames missing the submarines by 50 feet but it wasn't the explosion that was the killer. But the concussion. The concussion wave slammed into both subs within microseconds of impact. Only Colorado knew what had happened and her last thoughts were of satisfaction. She had done her job and her mate was safe. The blast separated the two subs but that didn't matter, both's internal organs would've been turned to jelly. Neither had a hope of surviving. Their bodies tumbled away, thrown about by the current. Colorado caught a glimpse of Illinois' hull suspended below and outlined by the flames above. Then the light was gone and all faded to black.


End file.
